


Incarceration

by GrotBag



Category: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)
Genre: Angst, Body Image, Chronic Pain, Denial, Entrapdak, F/M, Guilt, Hordak POV, Hordak in prison, Hordak-centric (She-Ra), Hurt/Comfort, Post-She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018) Season 5, Redemption, Self-Harm, Slow Burn, Smut, Trauma, internalized ableism
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-24
Updated: 2021-03-12
Packaged: 2021-03-14 23:02:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 36,919
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29674629
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GrotBag/pseuds/GrotBag
Summary: "Guilty"Hordak is imprisoned for his crimes against Etheria. With only himself and his mind for company he has a lot of time to think. Too much.Set immediately at the end of season 5.Please take note of the tags before reading, this is not a fluffy fic and unpleasant themes and discussions are found herein. Look after yourself.The smut is skippable and marked with a '***' at the beginning and end. I suppose that also makes it easy to find if that's all you're here for you mucky pups!
Relationships: Entrapta/Hordak (She-Ra)
Comments: 67
Kudos: 106





	1. Chapter 1

“Hordak!”  
  
The small bundle of sheer force that was Entrapta threw herself into his arms. He caught her and swung her around. The air around him turned purple. His chest felt full.  
  
“I’m so glad you’re back! Oh, we’ve so much to talk about!”  
  
Feeling disorientated he placed her carefully upon the soft grass, she didn’t let go, however. He could feel her long hair twisting itself over his arms as she stared up at him in delight. He shook his head, trying to rid it of the whirling thoughts. He is gone, he tried to reassure himself, but his body still trembled. He could feel the insidious presence, though it was fast fading.  
  
“Come on,” said Entrapta softly, leading him gently away, “let’s walk.”  
  
As they moved he began to feel better, a little more together. It was him that was walking, making the choice to put one foot in front of the other. He focused his mind, absorbing his surroundings. The golden light helped. It was warm and tingled over his skin. There was a sensation he could not find on Horde Prime’s ship. The grass was spongy beneath his feet, a sharp contrast from the hard metal. And her. She clutched tightly onto his arm as if he’d float away if she let go. He felt like he might.  
  
Slowly it occurred to him that she was talking, or rather, excitedly chattering. She gestured wildly as she spoke, as if the words themselves did not contain enough emphasis for her liking. He tried so hard to focus, he highly valued her opinions, but everything was overwhelming, his own thoughts most of all. He fought to get his mind under control as they passed through crowds of Etherians and clones. No one was fighting, he noted with relief. He did not have the capacity for a battle at present.  
  
The absence of the hive-mind was perhaps the most prominent. He’d felt this before, decades ago when he first landed on this planet, the roar of the silence. The thought was a comfort, he’d survived this before, only this time, the absence was truly forever. Horde Prime was gone. She-Ra had seen to that. The thought sent a rush through him, allowing it, for once, to take him, he smiled down at the tiny Princess skipping beside him. She caught his eye and briefly paused her tirade to return it, and pulled him over to a patch of grass.  
  
They sat. Or rather, he sat. Entrapta would settle for a few seconds before leaping up on her hair to illustrate a point. As he watched her, that full feeling in his chest grew. It pushed away the worry. He felt his smile grow, feeling giddy and, for once, bold, around this strange Princess.  
  
“Entrapta,” he interrupted.  
  
“Yes Hordak?”  
  
“I have not heard a word you have been saying.”  
  
“Oh! I’m sorry! Are you okay? Are your ears damaged?”  
  
She bent over to examine them and he drew back.  
  
“No, they are fine. I am just feeling… A little overwhelmed. But I would like to hear your observations at a later date.”  
  
“Oh okay! I keep forgetting, we have so much time now!” she exclaimed, her hair fanning out around her. She lowered herself back to the floor and sat beside him.  
  
He found to his surprise a little hum of satisfaction leaving his throat. She had said ‘we’. He pictured it, happily, she would show him her lab and Dryl and the Crypto Castle. They could work together on experiments. Perhaps she would even permit him to live there, or he could take up residency close by. With their minds they could do anything, the possibilities for experiments were boundless. They finally had time. He’d never thought much about his future, only getting to Prime, serving Prime, but now, at this Princess’s side, he felt hopeful. His future looked… Pleasant.  
  
He reached into his robes and pulled out the power crystal. She blushed as she caught sight of it.  
  
“You kept it.”  
  
He examined it.  
  
“It helped me to remember. I would like to wear it again, that is… If you don’t mind.”  
  
“Of course not! I gave it to you, it’s yours, but I don’t know where your armour went, I’m sorry.”  
  
“It is no matter. I meant to wear it independently anyway; I hope that I have no need of armour now that the fighting is done, though I will need to construct some kind of apparatus. Do you have something to attach it?”  
  
“Well of course! Any good scientist carries with them tools and useful items at all times. You never know when you might need to perform field research.”  
  
As she spoke she rummaged in her overalls before pulling out a piece of wire and some pliers. She stripped its casing and unravelled the inside. Plucking the crystal from Hordak’s clawed fingers she fashioned a net-like casing for it, tied it to a piece of twine and hung it from his neck.  
  
“There,” she said happily.  
  
He fingered it gently.  
  
“Thank you...” he looked up at her and opened his mouth to speak again before stopping, staring over her shoulder. Entrapta turned to look too.  
  
A group of Princesses stood a few metres away, the Princess Alliance, they were glowering at Hordak.  
  
“You’re coming with us, Hordak!” called Adora.  
  
“No!” said Entrapta, her face crumpling, she stood, trying to block Hordak from view but he got to his feet, sighing.  
  
“It is alright, Entrapta,” he murmured before addressing Adora and the others, “I surrender.” 

  


Queen Glimmer presided. The trial was the largest, so he assumed. He had been ‘leading general of the opposition’, after all. A gathering of people from all over Etheria, representatives of the different kingdoms were all in attendance. The faces observing were solemn at the least, enraged at the worst. Of all of them, his eyes kept straying to Entrapta, though he understood from early on, she had no real say in the outcome. He wished she could see her face, even just once, but she kept her mask pulled low.  
  
“Hordak do you agree that you positioned yourself as ‘Lord Hordak’ of the ‘Fright Zone’”  
  
“desecration of Salanias”  
  
“deaths at Thaymore”  
  
“alleged military outposts of...”  
  
“construction of a portal that...”  
  
“indoctrination of child soldiers”  
  
“in opposition to Etheria”  
  
“treason”  
  
“construction of war machines”  
  
The witnesses kept coming. Those of the rebel alliance, of the surrounding settlements, even of the Fright Zone itself. Citizens, soldiers, it didn’t matter. The onslaught was endless. They stood, on the witness stand, stating their opinion. Their version of events. What they had seen him do. What he did…

  


Hordak paced the Brightmoon prison. The room was far more lavish than anything he had encountered on Horde Prime’s ships, or indeed anything he had created for himself in the Fright Zone. His old bedroom there had been a close copy of his quarters upon those ships; a simple bunk, some uniform storage, cleaning facilities. It was all that he needed and he was scornful when the Fright Zone soldiers had requested extra pillows, or permission to decorate. Only in his sanctum had he allowed himself more creative freedom, but that, he had reasoned, had all been in an effort to get back to Horde Prime’s side, it was the most important room in the Fright Zone because of this.  
  
His current lodgings were excessive, wasteful and it astounded him. He was aware that Etherian’s liked comfort and decoration, but he just shook his head in wonder as he stared around at the colourful… fluffy room. The bed alone could sleep four of himself comfortably. He wondered briefly if he would be expected to, when the clones began to be rounded up. It was opulent and excessive to say the least.  
  
He resumed his pacing. After occupying it for several days the room was familiar to him. He woke here, and was returned to it each evening after the days trial. Although it was tomorrow that he would be sentenced. There was an odd clenching feeling in his stomach as his mind strayed, remembering the testimonies… He pulled himself back. It was pointless dwelling on them, the trials were a formality, a gesture to the citizens. It was important to some cultures so that the ideas of ‘justice’ and ‘repercussions’ could be upheld. He had witnessed it on other planets, but so far not in his time residing on Etheria, perhaps different civilisations reached this conclusion at different times. Etheria barely had a punitive system, perhaps now that it had made connections with worlds outside of its own atmosphere it had decided to evolve a little more quickly, though he was sure their core sensibilities of forgiveness would still prevail. Horde Prime had gone beyond this. There was no need for a trial when insubordination could be read so clearly in the mind, the offending clone could be wiped, reborn, so as not to waste the organic resource… He remembered…  
  
A prickling feeling moved over his skin and his throat constricted, causing him to pause, jarringly. He glanced around, glad he was alone. He did not know if he had outwardly expressed his discomfort at the memory, a witness to his weakness would be an embarrassment. He carefully guided his thoughts away from the past, from Horde Prime, and instead, to the future. He indulged himself in a fantasy wherein he and Entrapta built a craft and took to the stars, if she would have him. He could show her some of the planets he had visited, different galaxies. Hordak was certain that he could lure her into travelling with him under the promise of space discovery.  
  
A noise by the open window drew his attention. They were large, floor to ceiling glass, with wooden frames, and lead out onto a balcony. He had not yet visited it due to a magical forcefield acting as a barrier. He had tried, of course, to pass through it, but felt that it was better not to push, best to wait for the inevitable pardon than live a life on the run. Stepping forward he felt another jolt in his gut, this one far less uncomfortable, as the form of Entrapta appeared, silhouetted by the moon as she hung from above. She allowed herself to drop and promptly fell onto her backside, cradling something in her arms. Standing awkwardly, she caught sight of him, and waved with a tendril of her hair, still holding the object. She began to speak, though her words could not penetrate the magical field.  
  
Hordak shook his head, pointing at his ears and placing a hand on the barrier before him, demonstrating its presence. She smiled and nodded before bending and placing the object as close to the foot of the barrier as she could manage. It looked like a metal box, roughly constructed, with wires sticking out of either side, each ending in a thin metal jack. She took each jack, pushing them into the barrier, and to Hordak’s surprise, they remained, appearing to hover in mid air. She flicked a switch on the box and the jacks fell to the floor. Entrapta stepped over them as she entered the doorway to his rooms.  
  
“How did you do that? The field was magical, and you used tech...” asked Hordak, marvelling at her ingenuity. Entrapta grinned in return.  
  
“It’s a jammer, and it’s simple, really. First Ones tech is the link between magic and technology. Once I’d figured that out it opened up a whole host of possibilities!” She paused, her eyes glimmering at the thought, “though this is pretty basic, I’m hoping to get some range on it, and even make it wireless, but I was in a hurry. Sometimes scientific discovery must wait, which is unfortunate.”  
  
She stopped and he waited for her to continue.  
  
“It’s also pretty bulky,” she added as if in afterthought, “I’d like to make it more portable.”  
  
Hordak still didn’t speak, knowing from experience that he was about to get an in-depth run down of her theories on how to do this, or the issues she had faced when creating the current design. He was looking forward to it, he hadn’t had a real chance to hear her thoughts in the midst of an invention in well… A long time. Since their work on the portal together, now he thought about it properly. Hordak waited eagerly for her monologue. It didn’t come. He looked at the jammer pointedly, then remembered he should just ask her, usually she didn’t need to be prompted but apparently today she did.  
  
“So… What are ideas on that? How to increase the range? Are the wires a necessity or could you…” he trailed off, confused. He should have been interrupted by now.  
  
“Are you alright, Entrapta?”  
  
He examined her quickly, physically she appeared uninjured, besides, he had seen her fall from greater heights than that and bounce back up.  
  
“I’m fine. I just… Wanted to see you before tomorrow.”  
  
“Tomorrow?”  
  
“You know… The sentencing.”  
  
“But you will see me right after!”  
  
She looked sad, her eyes lowered, refusing to meet his. Perhaps he had upset her? He cast his mind back, quickly. He had been rude, he realised.  
  
“My apologies, Entrapta, it is not that I am not glad for the visit. Though it is a little risky, if you are caught it could damage tomorrows outcome. Princess Mermista has been particularly vocal against me, even a small digression such as this could sway some of the others to her line of thinking.”  
  
She remained silent, glancing at him quickly before her pupils darted away.  
  
“Are you worried?”  
  
“Yes,” she replied, her voice small, “Hordak, they could lock you up, take you away somewhere.”  
  
“Come now,” he smiled, “look at this place! This is no prison. I realise that the trial is worrying but it is an important post war stage. The Princess Alliance dropped the ball a little, to borrow some Etherian phrasing, with Catra, Scorpia, even yourself… But,” he hurried onwards, avoiding the tender subject, “you are all free to roam, you have all been forgiven. Tomorrow I shall be pardoned. What would you like to do afterwards? Perhaps you could show me your lab..?”  
  
He trailed off. He had been sure this would spark her excitement but she looked… despondent. The unpleasant feeling was back in his stomach. She was more worried about the trial than he realised, he thought back, trying to picture her there, how she had perceived it. It was difficult, she had had her face covered almost the entire time, first lowering her mask when they began to list out his crimes. His crimes…  
  
Hordak stared hard at the Princess in front of him. His once lab partner, his friend… He could see no traces now of their old camaraderie, how they had often worked late into the night, lulls in conversation rare, each eager to progress in their work, bouncing ideas off of one another. What were her thoughts on the subject of his crimes? Some of which she herself had been a participant in, the morality of which had seemingly never bothered her before. But perhaps… Perhaps hearing them, listed out, hearing the testimonies of her fellow Etherians. His stomach clenched uncomfortably tight. No, he pushed away the thought. She would have mentioned before this if she had a distaste for his work, he was sure… Besides, her own testimony had been positive, she had recounted the events on the flagship, how he had turned on Horde Prime, how his loyalty had turned. She must just be worried about tomorrows outcome.  
  
“So… How about the other trials?” he tried, “the other clones? Are they ongoing or are they getting my own out of the way first?”  
  
She shook her head slowly.  
  
“They were pardoned.”  
  
“Well that is positive news! You need not worry, tomorrow I will be pardoned too. It is the Etherian way.”  
  
“No,” she said sadly, “they were let off because of the hive-mind. Prime was found to be at fault for the actions of the clones while under its influence. You are too, by the way… for everything that happened since he took you, Glimmer and Catra. They all get a second chance.”  
  
“Oh,” he said surprised. He did not need her to elaborate. He was blameless for his time under Horde Prime’s influence but before that… When he had been far from his reach, free to operate as he wished… He pushed the thought away. It would be fine, they would see tomorrow.  
  
“Tell me about what we will work on. I know that you will have some ideas.”  
  
She shook her head.  
  
“I’m sorry, Hordak, you’re right, I shouldn’t’ve come. If you’re right, it could ruin your chances. I just thought you might be scared… That you might need a friend. I know I would.” She turned to leave through the window.  
  
“Entrapta I...” she paused but he faltered, words failing him. Her final refusal to engage in the discussion of their future projects scared him. It occurred to him that a lot had happened since they had last seen each other properly, without the heady bliss immediately following Horde Prime’s defeat. It had been long… Much too long. Even their recent past was fraught. She had heard the words of those that he had wronged most, their pain, their loss. Perhaps it had changed her opinions on him, perhaps she had not dwelt upon it before and now… Hearing it all laid before her. She was likely privy to the discussions of his fate, perhaps this was goodbye.  
  
Just ask, he thought, but feared the answer. It was one thing to face a doomed future, but one in which she hated him… His one and only friend. He opened his mouth again to speak but a sound interrupted him, coming from the hallway. The sound of footsteps.  
  
Entrapta turned, eyes widening in panic and swept from the room. His stomach lurched, he made to follow her but stopped himself on the edge of the barrier.  
  
“Entrapta, wait!” he called out desperately, and she paused, gloved hands on the jammer. He hesitated, sifting quickly through his whirl of thoughts on what to say. “If anything should… happen… tomorrow. Please… Look after Imp.”  
  
She nodded once, briefly, a flicker of a sad smile crossing her face before she gathered up the jammer and hauled herself over the ledge and up onto the next balcony. He stared hard as her feet slipped from his view, the barrier solidifying between them. Behind him the door opened and he didn’t even bother to turn as the guard looked in on him on their nightly rounds.


	2. Chapter 2

“Guilty.”  
  
Hordak felt that knot that had been growing steadily in his gut since the previous night drop and disappear. He felt numb with shock. The rest of Glimmer’s words were lost to him. The crowd, at least, were silent too. He scanned their faces, they looked relieved, many were tearful or nodding their heads firmly. Guilty? It could not be…  
  
King Micah stood before him, he looked grave as he whirred his arms in the air before him and sent a spell crashing over Hordak. A death penalty? He had not heard. There was suddenly a tension at his wrists, he looked down, and there glowed a pair of yellow manacles, binding his hands before him. Incarceration, of course. A pair of Brightmoon guards took him firmly by the arm and marched him out of the trial room. He still stared scornfully at the cuffs. Magic. The Etherians were obsessed, any mage could probably remove these, but he could create some far superior, the strongest metal, releasing only at the captors command. He tested them, they wouldn’t budge, and he did not know any magic to release them.  
  
He was led into an adjoining room by the guards, followed in by Glimmer and Adora. Glimmer closed the door behind them. He stared at the four of them, raising his brow. They were new to this, but the expressions on their faces did not betray that. They looked stern, grim even.  
  
“Remove your armour and place it on the floor over there. There is a uniform for you to change into on that bench,” said Glimmer, coldly. She indicated a dark pile on a bench. There wasn’t much else in this room, a surprise, they must have removed their pink cushions and unicorn tapestries in advance.  
  
“No,” he said, equally as coldly, glad to hear no tremor in his voice. He still felt numb, which probably helped.  
  
Glimmer just glared before waving her hands before her. His wrists, dragged by the manacles whipped behind his back. He struggled against the bonds but they held tight. He allowed a small snarl to escape his lips. In truth, he longed to discard the white uniform of Horde Prime’s army, be rid of the bat insignia on his chest, but he wanted to wear clothing of his choosing, and he did not wish to do so in front of his captors.  
  
“You have no choice, Hordak. You’re our prisoner, and you can’t wear that armour any more. Do it willingly or we’ll do it by force.”  
  
He kept his eyes locked defiantly on the Queen.  
  
“Do you...” muttered Adora to Glimmer, “do you think his power crystal is still working? Maybe we should...”  
  
Glimmer shrugged, refusing to break eye contact with her prisoner. Adora glanced at her, then Hordak, before stepping forward and reaching for the power crystal at his neck.  
  
“No!” he snarled, lunging backward, but he was stopped instantly, the manacles remained where they were and prevented him from moving.  
  
“Wow,” said Adora, taking a defensive half step backwards. Her eyes gleamed a lighter blue in warning. He recognised She-Ra. He recognised the defensive stance, one foot backwards, hands raised. He had approved her training programme after all. He pulled against the manacles once more but they would not budge from their spot in the air. He assumed that Glimmer was holding them in place.  
  
Adora reached forward and plucked the power crystal from round his neck, snapping the twine. She examined it then pocketed it.  
  
“It wasn’t connected,” she informed Glimmer.  
  
As he watched it disappear the numbness began to retreat, but in its place was something far worse. A sharp pain invaded his chest as the crystal was taken from him yet again. Hordak pushed the feeling away, he needed to keep his mind clear and it wasn’t useful, nor was the crystal really. He just would have liked to have kept his gift.  
  
“Get changed, Hordak. We have a lot more to deal with than this today. Last chance if it’s gonna be voluntarily, if not...” Glimmer allowed magic to fizz around her hands, it crackled warningly.  
  
Finally he broke eye contact, eyes flickering around the room, trying to allay his growing panic. There was nothing here to help him, no weapons, nothing that could be used as such. They had searched him and removed everything when they had captured him initially anyway. He could not overpower them physically either, he was outnumbered and two of his foes were some of the most powerful magic users on the planet, meanwhile all he had in his hand was his own body, without the support of his Entrapta-made armour. He tensed his fingers behind his back, and felt his ears flicking. He tried to force them to stop, not wanting them to betray the weakness in his mind. They would see his other weakness too… To be nude in front of them was to display his weakened and defective body.  
  
His chest tightened, trying to seek an out. He hated these clothes, this armour, but what was beneath them… Well, he hated that even more. No one, not even Entrapta, during her ministrations had witnessed him fully. At least he was all over covered, this uniform, despite its connotations, kept him from display, it made his chest and arms appear full, like any other clone. His heart was pounding. He could not see an option.  
  
“Hordak!” snapped Glimmer.  
  
“I would appreciate some privacy,” he muttered, finally, “surely Etheria is not that uncivilised?” His voice, he noted, was not its usual firm bark, but it did not quaver. That was some relief.  
Glimmer rolled her eyes.  
  
“If it’ll get you to hurry up,” she said shortly. She nodded her head to the guards and Adora before waving her arms again. A magical forcefield sprung up around him and the pile on the bench, circling off part of the room. Another spell and he felt his manacles ease their tension. The guards, Glimmer and Adora left the room, yanking the door closed behind them.  
  
Hordak let out a long slow breath and began rubbing his sore arms, the position had been uncomfortable and he was beginning to feel that old familiar dull pain creeping back into them.  
  
Keeping his eyes trained on the door he began to disrobe. He did not know how quickly they would return and he did not want to be caught in a state of undress. Hauling the white armour and uniform from his body he dropped it unceremoniously to the floor before turning his attentions to the pile on the bench. It was a long, grey robe, underwear and breeches. Angrily he dragged the robe over his head, ignoring the breeches. It hung around him in baggy clumps, not at all like the tighter fitting cut he preferred. This was what they offered him. He supposed if he tried to run or fight them in it it would hinder his attack and movement. At least it wasn’t pink.  
  
His guard returned to the room and he stared at them, raising his head high, dignity in tact. The Brightmoon guards took him by the arms at a command from Glimmer and he strode purposefully between them. He hesitated at the door before catching Adora’s eye. Last chance.  
  
“Please,” he said, “return the crystal to Entrapta.”

  


Hordak stood in his cell, alone. Upon leaving the castle he had been blindfolded and transported elsewhere. The journey was not a long one, but it was sufficiently far from the castle that he had no idea where he now resided. Once it had been removed he had found himself in an unusually wide stone corridor with a heavy metal door that clanged behind him. He had been escorted down the corridor, past empty cells with barred metal doors until they reached the end. The one he stood in now was on the end of the row and identical to the others.  
  
The cell, also stone, consisted of a narrow bunk, a cabinet, a table and a chair. There was a small bathroom with a toilet, sink and shower. On the table was a cup, and in the cabinet was a small pile of identical robes to the one he was now dressed in. It had taken him seconds to take a full inventory.  
  
He felt his chest heave. His blood pulsed hot in his veins.  
  
He felt his face twist into a snarl.  
  
“RELEASE ME!” he roared.  
  
His long clawed fingers grasped the bars of the cage and rattled them, hard, but they held firm. He pressed his face against them, green eyes wild, but there was no one there, just a metal door, bolted closed at the end of an empty corridor.  
  
Imprisonment. Why? They had forgiven everyone. Even Shadow Weaver, cosied up to the Alliance, acting as advisor. Even Catra, who went far further than even he in the advancement of the Horde. Even the Fright Zone troops, loyal to the last, unquestioning. Even the clones, the entire army of Horde Prime.  
  
But he, he who defied him, he who stood before Horde Prime himself and defied his will. He who killed Horde Prime’s vessel. Without him the war could have taken a very different turn, and Entrapta would be dead. His breath caught. No, don’t go there... He who had done all this, thrown Prime from his mind and stood in his opposition, was now being punished, while the rest, all guilty in their own right, cavorted out there, forgiven. Why was only he singled out. Things could have been so different...  
  
He whirled in rage and smashed his hand against the cup on the table, sending it flying against the wall. It clattered to the floor.  
  
“I defied Prime!”  
  
He threw the table across the room, sending the chair flying after it. There was no release, so he followed it kicking his foot into it.  
  
“You forgave EVERYONE! EVERYONE!”  
  
Hot rage burned through his mind and he was blind to everything.  
  
Throwing himself around the cell he bellowed and screamed, smashing his fists and body against the walls until blood welled up from under his skin. He overturned the bunk and threw it against the bars of the cell. It clanged loudly, echoing in his skull.  
  
He wanted to break everything, break them, break him.  
  
He roared, opening his vocal chords feeling his voice rip over them like knives. It reverberated off the stone walls, crashing around him like a force of its own. He charged around the cell smashing his fists into everything and anything that got in his way. Blood and sweat and drool covered everything.

  


Hordak sat amongst the debris of his cell. He was calm now. Numb. The rage had abated and in the end all that was left was a mess. He had not managed to destroy anything, just displace it. All of the furniture was too well made, too strong. He was no match for it. The only thing broken was his own body.  
  
He could barely move, his muscles screamed in pain, his knuckles bled, along with several grazes covering his body. A consistent tremble had plagued him since his rage had left him. He kept his hands hidden in his lap so that he didn’t have to look at it.  
  
No one had come, no one had listened, or cared. He hadn’t even managed to make a dint in the cup.  
  
The memory of his old armour came unbidden to his mind. He could do so much in it, lift things, destroy things. He had torn apart half of the Fright Zone in it on just a whim. Now he sat, unable to raise his arms even.  
  
Entrapta had made that for him. It wasn’t an order, she had delighted in its manufacture, just for him. Just to see him well. She hadn’t minded him weak either. She hadn’t looked at him in disgust, she had just wanted him to not look at himself that way. She had celebrated it even. She who was so brilliant, had looked at him and smiled.  
  
It was this thought that allowed him to drag himself over to the thin mattress and curl up on it in the foetal position, exhausted. There was nothing more he could do. He allowed the memory of that smile to linger in his mind as he drifted off to sleep. Not that it mattered now. He tensed uncomfortably. That one, tiny thought, simultaneously hurt and comfort. He was weak to need it, but he could punish himself tomorrow.  
  
“If only they could see this great ‘Lord Hordak’ now,” he whispered. He regretted it instantly. What if he was heard? Sapped of fight, he fell into an uneasy sleep.


	3. Chapter 3

He strode down the corridor, on his way to his bunk. The ship hummed gently around him, and the metal beneath his feet let out a soft ring with each step. His shift was over, time to briefly rest before restarting. The drone of his Brothers’ minds whispered away in his own. If he concentrated he could dimly feel them; the firmness of a lever, the smell of a fresh brew of nutrient rich amniotic fluid, a long stream of coordinates. It didn’t last long, just brief sensations, full occupation was a right and ability reserved only for Lord Prime.

Reaching the door to the bunk room he tried to turn into it, but his legs kept moving, transporting him further down the twisting corridor. He tried to halt, tensing his legs, but they were unresponsive. Perhaps if he turned? The muscles in his neck, too, were not listening to his instructions. A creeping wash moved over his mind like a fog, starting from the base of his neck till it met his eyes. Everything blurred slightly. He halted, or rather, was halted. His body pausing without his instruction. He attempted to move but was unsuccessful.

“Do not resist, Little Brother.”

His Lord Prime, an honour to be his vessel.

Entranced he was transported down twists and turns, through doorways, passing Brothers along the way. They bowed as he passed, noting the pilot of this craft with wonder in their eyes. At this moment this one was blessed above all of the Brothers. Reaching their destination they entered into the Throne Room. Horde Prime himself sat astride the chair, his eyes closed. At his feet rested a small bundle, the only thing in the room that wasn’t white, hard and metal. 

The fog snapped away and he found himself face to face with Lord Prime, those green eyes boring into him. He collapsed into a kneeling bow at once, hiding his confusion. Sorting back through his memories he had a dim sensation of having been led here, blurred visions of the last few minutes. 

“You may rise, Little Brother.” 

He stood and faced the great emperor. 

“I have a task for you, pick up that weapon,” he said indicating a gun on a pedestal nearby.  
He hesitated for the briefest of seconds before taking up the gun. It was large, powerful. It was heavy in his arms. 

“Was that hesitation I detect, Little Brother?”

“No, my Lord,” he replied at once, bowing his head, “your will is mine.”

Horde Prime surveyed him, a slight smirk playing over his thin lips. The bundle twitched, drawing his eye, Lord Prime observed this with amusement. The fog rolled back into his head, softer this time, he could still feel his own body, his pulse, rising. It brought with it a whisper.

“Curious is it not? Your task.”

He felt his head turn to look at the bundle. There was something alive under there and it was stirring. 

“Why do you resist me, Little Brother,” asked the whisper.

“I do not, my Lord,” he spoke aloud. 

“I feel your hesitation. Horde Prime knows all.”

An involuntary panic slipped into his body and his heart pounded. The words ‘hide Hordak’ slipped across his mind before he could stop them.

“Hordak? What is a hordak?” asked the whisper, cold amusement dripping from every syllable. 

“I- I do not know, my Lord,” he croaked, confusion surging up through the fog. It had felt important, but its meaning was out of his grasp, slipping away, falling beneath the fog. It must not have mattered anyway.

“It did not, and now, Little Brother, your task. Step forward.”

His hesitation this time did not matter, his body began to move, pushed onwards by the fog. He approached the throne, the bundle and Lord Prime. Propelled forwards, there was nothing he could do but obey.

“There has been an infiltration, Little Brother, but worry not, I have it here. Your task is to neutralise it.”

“Of course, my Lord.”

His body stopped and half turned towards the bundle. Whatever lay beneath is was covered by a rough blanket. His arm reached out and drew it back. A shock of recognition flashed through the fog, clearing it momentarily.

“Little Brother.” The voice had lost it’s amusement, now it was just cold. He heard it both outside and inside. It brought back with it the thick fog. What had that been? That feeling? So brief. It sunk down below the fog. It was unimportant. 

“Complete your task,” said the whisper.

He raised his weapon, training it on the figure beneath the bundle. It was indeed alive, a creature, much smaller than himself and his Brothers, covered over by a long tangle of its purple hair. It stirred and its eyes blinked open revealing themselves to be a pinkish red.

He hesitated, confused, something was stirring again beneath the fog. It rumbled angrily from below. What was this. He stared hard at the creature. It seemed… familiar, somehow. It was pushing against the fog, this… familiarity. He felt his heart begin to pound again. Why did he feel angry? It was almost surfacing. It was… A memory.

“Complete your task!” Horde Prime roared, the voice inside and out. 

“Hordak...” she whispered, voice small and scared.

No… Entrapta.

The fog thickened. Calm. His arm raised. He pulled the trigger.

Hordak awoke, a yell building in his throat. He quashed it immediately. A dream, that was all, leave it where it belonged, in sleep. It would not do to be seen affected by the unreal. Still… he shuddered.

He uncurled, slowly, his body groaning at every stretch. He had remained in a tight ball for the duration it would seem. He was stiff, unsurprising after the punishment he inflicted upon himself the evening before. What did surprise him, however, was how groggy he felt. As if he had been asleep for a long time. His throat and head ached with dehydration. That he had slept for hours was a cause for concern. Ordinarily clones did not require much rest, shutting down for a few minutes at a time in regular intervals. Only the sick or injured slept for long periods and under Horde Prime’s command they did not remain that way for long…

Laboriously he stood. Like the previous evening he still felt weak and shaky. Though not as pronounced, his hands and muscles still trembled a little. Without the amniotic fluid, taken by all the clones, to sustain him, his body was struggling. When he had first landed on Etheria the withdrawal had shocked him as he had watched his body deteriorate further. His condition exacerbated by the absence of the sustenance it had provided. It had surprised him, how much it assisted him during his time in Horde Prime’s army. Clearly it had allowed him to hide his ailment for a time. Horde Prime had wanted his clones strong. Without it, he had struggled, having to build himself a support system. That too, had helped a little, allowing him to continue. Not to mention the one that Entrapta had built for him…

This line of thinking was useless. He was without any of them or the means to construct anything. He must overcome, he had done it before. Still, he could not loose control like that again, he had not the capacity.

After consuming a little water he looked critically around the cell. If his captors viewed this mess they would see that they had got to him. Despite his current predicament he refused to allow himself to appear beaten, weakness was unforgivable. 

He started with the bunk. First he tried to lift and carry it to its original spot but he quickly realised that was beyond him as his arms refused to obey the commands he was sending them. He had been in this situation many times before. Usually he would simply don his armour and complete the task. But now…

Frustrated, he tried a different approach, compromising by tipping it, allowing it to fall, then repeating the action until it was righted. In this manner the full weight was never on his arms. Each tip made his muscles scream and groan. It took his full concentration to complete each movement, rising up through his legs, torso, arms and even to the grip of his fingers. Finally it had fallen into place with a metallic clang. Taking a deep breath, he began to push it back into the corner of the cell. A hiss of annoyance fell from his lips as the friction worked against him. It moved, slowly, painfully, but he eventually managed to inch it across the stone and into its rightful place. Once complete he allowed himself a short rest, sitting on its hard surface. He could just lie down…

Before he could finish the thought he stood quickly, it made him sway but he fought to keep his balance. Gritting his teeth he tackled the cabinet. It was too heavy to lift far off the ground, much less tip it like he had with the bunk. How had he managed this last night? The strength his rage had provided him was long since gone. Weak. Pathetic. He sat on the floor, defeated. His captors would find him here, a pathetic mess. And why not? It was true. He stayed there just breathing for a long time. He who had done so much, with so little. He had built an empire from scraps. He had defied the will of the most powerful creature in the universe; his creator. He had built and invented. And now he couldn’t lift a cabinet. He longed for his old armour. 

He stared off into the distance before raising his head, his ears lifted slightly. He had done those things. It wasn’t his physical strength that had aided him in those instances but his mind. His body had always failed him, but his mind not as much. He glanced around the cell, thinking hard. If he couldn’t lift it, he must use something to lift it for him. His eyes fell on the fallen chair. Leverage. He crawled over to it before standing gently so as not to aggravate his already protesting muscles, and dragged it over to the cabinet. Carefully lining the legs so they were flush against the side he arranged his improvised tool. Then, taking a deep breath he raised the cabinet a few inches and tried to slide the chair underneath with his foot. His grip failed and he dropped it. He stepped back cursing and spitting. His arms and back were screaming their protest. Useless. Weak. A failure. 

A voice floated into his head. “Failure is what makes scientific experimentation possible.”

He closed his eyes and smiled to himself. There was once a period in his life where his failures had been a joy. Stepping forward again he repeated the movement and this time he was able to slide the chair legs under the cabinet. He paused to congratulate himself. A small victory but a victory indeed. Straining he pressed down on the back of the chair, as it slowly pushed towards the ground, the lower legs rose, and with them the cabinet. It was still heavy, but much more manageable. It slowly tipped, higher and higher from the floor until it reached its apex. Then all it took was a firm kick to topple it back onto its feet. He shouldn’t be proud, but he couldn’t help it. 

After that the rest of the cell was relatively easy to tidy, the objects much lighter and less cumbersome. Pushing his pain aside he struggled on, and only rested once he had wiped every smear of blood from the walls. Sitting on the bunk, sipping water from his cup he surveyed his victory. Everything was neatly in its place, robes folded carefully in the cabinet, the chair tucked flush under the table. He couldn’t summon the energy to shower, but, for appearances sake, everything was acceptable. 

A short while later the metal door at the end of the corridor was thrown open with a bang. Footsteps began approaching. Hordak remained where he was, seated at the table after a shuffling journey from the bunk. He did not wish to appear to eager for company, or look as if he was greeting them, so he remained sitting. They were unwelcome, whoever they were. They could come to him. He also did not trust his legs to support him, but that was information he would rather keep to himself. 

He turned slightly in his chair, ignoring a harsh jab of pain in his back, as his captors appeared on the other side of the bars. It was Adora and Glimmer. Glimmer was holding a tray of assorted food stuffs. He snorted with derision. 

“Has Brightmoon no servants or do you both just crave being part of everything?” Hordak asked, smirking a little.

“You’re a special case, we can’t risk you escaping or manipulating anyone into joining the Horde,” said Adora firmly in response.

“Then why not teleport? Save yourself some time? I was under the impression that was your little talent,” he said, raising his brow at Glimmer.

“King Micah has magically sealed this entire building, the only way in or out is the door,” Glimmer sounded a little smug, “We don’t loose track of our prisoners.”

“No, you just place them on your advisory board.”

Glimmer scowled.

“You’re kinda arrogant for your position, don’t you think? You’re not a Horde Lord any more. Be grateful we allowed you to live...”

“Glimmer...” said Adora, uncomfortably, Glimmer glanced at her apologetically. 

“I stood against Prime, like all of you,” snapped Hordak angrily, cutting her off, “I surrendered, and I stand by the unfairness of this imprisonment.”

“You’re gonna be here a long time if that’s the way you think,” said Glimmer quietly. 

Hordak remained silent, scowling at Glimmer. His throat felt tight and he did not trust his voice. He needed to hold onto what little power he had left, even if it was just appearances. 

When Glimmer continued to stare out Hordak, Adora spoke up.

“Since you’re in our care now,” she began, “we need to feed you. What do you even eat? We brought some stuff.”

Adora gestured at the tray clamped in Glimmers fists. He reluctantly removed his gaze from Glimmers. There was a range of food stuffs there; fruits, bread, meats, seeds, and fish. He wanted to refuse, but it would be foolish to deny his body sustenance at this point. He glanced down then forced himself to meet Adora’s look.

“I can eat Etherian food,” he said shortly, “though just the fruit, vegetables, grains and seeds. Raising meat for consumption is a waste of resources.”

“Is that what was in our ration bars?” Adora wondered, aloud. 

“Fine,” said Glimmer, answering Hordak, “leave what you don’t want.” 

She pushed the tray through a slot in the bars and onto the table. It landed with a clatter, spilling some of the food onto the surface. 

“Someone will be back later with more, come on Adora.”

The two turned and left, footsteps retreating up the corridor. Adora glanced round, an uncomfortable look on her face, but she didn’t stop. The sound of the door clanging and locking into place rang across the stone. Hordak picked a berry from his plate and placed it in his mouth tentatively, he began to chew. 

With nothing to do, the hours stretched long. Hordak lay on his bunk, having long since finished his meal. He had estimated the dimensions of his cell, plotted several futile escape plans, and had even began designing a new underwater bot, but without any means of jotting down his ideas he had hit a wall. Though a good inventor in his own right, he could not hold the entire plans in his head, requiring a data pad or at the very least paper and a pen to jot down his calculations. 

Entrapta had been able to do that, he remembered fondly. She had often surprised him, during their time in the Fright Zone, by suggesting some solution or design and mapping it out for him. These rough demonstrations had often been fully realised ideas, depicting complexities that would have taken him hours to work out, even with the assistance of a computer. 

He wondered idly when she might visit him. He knew that she would be able to think of a whole host of things to do with just the items in the cell. Hours would pass like minutes. She would probably concoct brilliant theories, and they would explore them together, discussing and analysing what they could. 

Hordak wondered what she was working on at the moment, back in her own lab, now free of the requirements of the war. A whole host of new technology now hovered just above the surface of Etheria. She was probably deep in analysis of it, incorporating it into designs of her own. Tinkering, building… 

He felt a small stab of jealousy that Imp would be able to share that with her. The jealousy was soon overshadowed by a bubble of mirth as he pictured the chaos the two and Emily would reign upon that lab. Hopefully Entrapta would keep Imp out of harms way, but she had a knack for misjudging the dangers presented by her work. Her disregard for personal safety had often been a worry to him. In her excitement she had often barrelled into an experiment without pausing to take the proper precautions. Perhaps with Imp there she would be a little more cautious but he didn’t think so. The little creature was more mischief than he was worth. The two together would be pandemonium.

Despite the food and the hours of rest, Hordak was exhausted. His morning of arranging the cell had taken its toll on his body. He closed his eyes, hoping for the restorative powers of sleep. He slipped easily into it.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Check the tags before proceeding please! This chapter focuses heavily on some of them and is not a light read.

Hordak lay uncomfortably on his bunk. His creased robes clung to the shape of his body and smelt of sleep. He had managed to tuck his blanket tightly around himself which helped a little. The cell wasn’t cold but his lack of movement meant that he frequently felt chilly. He tried to adjust his position, it took some time, his arms found it difficult to support his weight even for brief periods now. The new position was still uncomfortable. His right wrist trembled with exertion. He tucked it slowly down beneath the blankets and trapped it between his legs. The food, delivered that morning, still lay on the table, untouched. He was hungry but couldn’t face the walk. His legs protested even the short distances. He stared over there. He had taken to leaving the chair slightly askew so that when he was able to make the trips across he could fall into it without needing to pull it out.

He wasn’t exactly sure how long he had been in the cell. He was normally meticulous about time keeping but it didn’t seem to matter here. There was no window through which to judge the changing light, no clock, no guard changes even to observe. His meals came twice a day. He had to assume morning and night, though he was never quite sure which was which. There was always plenty on the trays, more than enough to last him between the deliveries. They were brought to him by either Adora, Glimmer or the boy, Bow. Glimmer would just scowl, Adora may speak to him briefly, but Bow would try to engage him in conversation. It was one sided. 

He slept most of the time, probably cumulatively more than he had in his whole life. Even mid thought he found himself drifting off. It didn’t really matter, there wasn’t a lot else to do. After a few days Bow had brought him some paper, a pencil and a couple of books, Etherian history, a collection of folk-tales, clearly someone had deemed them harmless enough for him to have. They remained untouched on the table. He found it difficult to remain sitting for long periods so he didn’t. Besides, there was no point in using the paper. He wouldn’t be able to build his inventions and he had little interest in anything else. They would take them away anyway, use them to see what he was thinking about. He had briefly considered writing out elaborate escape plans, or meaningless nonsense to fool them, but what was the point? 

The excess sleeping bothered him mostly, because with it came Horde Prime. Night after night, and day after day his body obeyed another's mind. During his waking moments it didn’t obey him either, but in the dreams he is strong again, capable, dangerous. He watches, peering dimly through the fog, as his voice speaks words he didn’t think, his body moves in directions he didn’t tell it to, does things he didn’t want. A scream building in his chest, never able to be released.

“You haven’t eaten.”

The voice broke through his slumber and he opened his eyes blearily to see Adora, standing at the barred door holding another tray. She looked worried. He looked away and up at the ceiling instead.

“Hordak?”

“I am not hungry,” he said. His voice cracked from ill use. It sounded small and weak. He cleared his throat, annoyed. “Just leave the new tray there, perhaps I will partake later.”

Adora swapped the trays around, placing the fresh one on the table, but she didn’t leave. He could feel her watching him.

“Is this a hunger strike?”

He snorted in surprise and looked at her.

“I assure you it is not.”

She half grinned.

“Nah, I didn’t think that would be your style.”

“No...” he muttered, he felt his eyes close, he fought against it.

“Hordak?” There was real concern in her voice now. She placed the old tray carefully on the floor. “Are you okay?”

“I am fine,” he snapped. It didn’t have its usual commanding ring.

Adora hesitated then shook her head firmly, there was worry in her eyes. He looked away again. He hated being observed like that. Pity was reserved for the weak. He supposed that was him. He could hear the sounds of metal scraping and saw that she was unlocking the door of his cell. He hadn’t seen it open since he had entered. 

“I’m coming in,” she said, “If this is a trick...” Adora let the warning hang in the air. It was unnecessary, he knew he wouldn’t get through the door at the end, or fight off any guards present even if he did have weapons.

She approached and he tried to prop himself up in the bed but was unsuccessful. He must look so pathetic, writhing around beneath his blanket, stuck in bed. 

“Get out!” he hissed. It was barely a whisper. 

Adora looked uncomfortable, but remained where she was, no longer the scared child soldier of her youth. 

“Hordak, what’s going on?” She asked the question so gently, he hated it. 

“Nothing, I prefer to sleep today. I was under the impression that my time in this cell was my own.”

“Show me you can eat… Or at least sit up.”

She brought the tray over from the table and placed it on the cabinet beside his bunk. She appeared to tower over him as he lay there. He hissed again as she approached. 

“You are disturbing my rest.” 

It was a pathetic excuse and they both knew it.

“Show me, and I’ll leave you alone,” said Adora firmly.

He thought about it quickly. If he could sit, the food would undeniably help increase his strength. The girl would leave and once she had gone he could store some in the cabinet. This would mean that he could eat a little, enough to potentially get him over to the table prior to mealtimes. His captors would be appeased and he could keep up the appearance of strength in front of them. They wouldn’t have to know about his condition and things would go back to how they had been the previous days. It was a long shot but he wouldn’t have to suffer this humiliating injustice of the girl standing by his bed like a nurse maid. All he had to do was sit up, glare and eat a berry. 

He didn’t manage it.

His arms gave up on the first push upwards and he fell, slumping backwards, his head bouncing off the wall behind the metal headboard. The look of shock and pity on Adora’s face would haunt him forever. He closed his eyes, turning his face away in defeat. If only this was just another dream.

“Hordak...” she said stunned, “what’s wrong? Tell me? Is it the food? The air? Are you ill?”

He just sighed.

“You need to tell me so I can help!” she cried.

There was no point, he realised, in hiding it any longer. He couldn’t. The evidence was there, he, lying in that narrow bunk, unable to get up.

“I have a condition,” he said, quietly. He couldn’t bare to look at her so he didn’t.

“Did Horde Prime do something to you?” 

“No. There was a… Problem during my creation. A… defect,” the word came out barely even a whisper. How had it gotten to this?

“But..” she said, confused, “you haven’t always been like this! I’ve known you all my life, I’ve seen you. You’ve lived for years on Etheria, commanding the Fright Zone. You’re Hordak!”

He tensed and closed his eyes tightly at the last word. His cheeks flushed. Please, just go away, he thought. 

“I built a cybernetic support system for myself, my armour. It compensated for my condition and allowed me to function as mostly normal.”

She paused, thinking. 

“I don’t know if you know, but She-Ra has healing abilities, with the sword I could-”

“No,” he said cutting her off. “There is no fix, magical or otherwise, I am not injured or sick. In addition my body is suffused with inorganic elements. In ‘healing’ me you may cause them to be rejected. My support system is the only working solution.”

“Where is it?”

“Likely destroyed by Horde Prime.”

“Do you still have the plans for it? We could go to the Fright Zone...”

He shook his head, staring at the wall. 

“I got rid of them. Someone built me a… superior model.”

“Can you design one again? You know we can’t let you have the tools to build it but Bow can.”

He looked at her in surprise. 

“The boy with the arrows? This is not like building furniture or model space ships, this is a complex piece of technology, the slightest slip up and it’s worse than useless.”

“Bow is kinda our tech master,” smiled Adora, “he can do it, I’m sure.”

Hordak shrugged to himself, there was no other option.

“Alright. I will draw up the designs.”

Adora glanced around the cell and brought him over the stack of paper and the pencil with a book to lean on. She placed them on the cabinet beside the bed. Hordak looked at them, judging the distance between his arm and the stack. Adora noticed.

“Here… I’ll help you sit up.”

“No!” he hissed, with surprising venom. 

She raised her eyebrows in shock then lowered them into a frown. 

“Hordak, this isn’t comfortable for either of us, but what choice do you have. I’m trying to help.”

A lump rose in his throat. He knew it, now she knew it. He didn’t resist as she bent, taking him beneath the arms and pulled him easily up into a sitting position, arranging the pillow behind him to support his torso. She placed the tray on his lap and moved the stack of papers closer.

“Eat first,” she said, “I’ll be back later with Bow to look at the designs, unless you need more time?”

He shook his head, refusing to look up. His mind was fine, the design would not be a problem.

“Okay. Then… I guess I’ll see you later.”

He stared at his tray until she left, the metal door clanging in the corridor moments later. 

Adora and Bow returned later, as promised, bringing with them his next meal. This time they didn’t stay at the cell door, instead unlocking it and heading straight in. Hordak knew he was a prisoner but still winced at the intrusion. He was sitting upright in the bunk, on his lap were several sheets of paper sporting the design for a support system. It was very pared down, compared to his original design and especially compared to Entrapta’s. It had none of the weaponry or armour components he preferred, and was the bare minimum required for his survival. 

He had been surprised by how difficult it was to draw up, despite having done it before. He had relied too heavily on computers in the past for his calculations so this had taken longer than expected. He was, however, feeling better than he had in days. Physically he was spent, the hours of sitting had taken its toll, but mentally… It had felt good to do something productive and engaging, exercising his mental powers once more. 

“Hey Hordak...” said Bow in a falsely cheery voice. It pleased Hordak to detect a hint of nerves in the boy; he hadn’t lost his touch completely. They stood next to the bed while Adora traded out the trays. 

“Did you managed to finish it?” she asked.

“I did.”

He slowly gathered the papers and passed them over. He hoped they didn’t notice the tremble in his arm, exacerbated by the papers which crackled audibly. Bow accepted them and took them over to the table to examine. While he was doing that, Hordak took a piece of potato from the tray and began to eat, he didn’t want to be told to by Adora again. 

They were all silent for a few minutes, Adora wandering idly over to look over Bow’s shoulder. She frowned shaking her head and instead picked up one of the books, flicking through it. Eventually Bow broke the silence.

“I’m so sorry, but I can’t make this. It’s so complex and if I got it wrong...”

He shook his head, clearly distressed and looked at Hordak. 

“Is there a way of simplifying it or maybe doing a step by step?”

Hordak sighed, trying not to let his disappointment show. 

“It is no matter. Leave it. I will be fine.”

“No, you wont,” said Adora firmly, looking at him before turning back to Bow.

“Maybe Entrapta could...” she said quietly.

Hordak felt his insides freeze and his ears rose, they were sharp, they could pick up more than these two thought, clearly. 

“Do you think Glimmer would be okay with that?” asked Bow in a whisper, his eyes were wide.

“What choice do we have? He’s not in a good way. She’ll come round.”

Bow nodded in agreement before gathering up the papers.

“I’ll see what I can do,” he said more loudly to Hordak. 

Once they had left, Hordak began to brood. Entrapta could build the support system, she would have no problem following his design and would most likely improve upon it exponentially. No, what was bothering him was Adora’s comment ‘She’ll come round’? Who? Glimmer? In which case there was no problem, but if they mean Entrapta… Well… Now that he had experienced her friendship, he did not know how he could cope without it. What did she think of him? She had been there at the trial after all. She had heard everything.

He stopped himself. He had no evidence either way and chewing himself up over this was a waste of time and energy. If she came, with the new system, he would know, maybe they could even speak. She would help him don it and they could test out its capacities together. If they were permitted of course. But if she didn’t come… Well. Then he’d know.

Despite this solution Hordak’s mind followed a similar line of worry over and over. Each time a meal was delivered by Glimmer or Adora or Bow it was brought to his bedside. Each time there was no sign of the support system, or Entrapta. He tried hard to avoid thinking of her, it only made him feel sick with worry and panic, but he couldn’t help it. The longer it took, the more he was sure.  
  
Why would she help him, and why would she come? Once she had delighted in working with him, but that was when he was leader of the Horde. He had presented her with technology and opportunity beyond her wildest dreams. Now he had nothing, he didn’t even own the items in this cell. He who couldn’t even stand without assistance. She had seen the other clones now, he wasn’t special, she had seen how Horde Prime had looked at him, with disgust. She had heard his crimes listed at the trial. He was, now more than ever before, a failure.

Maybe once she hadn’t cared about that, she had even liked those things about him, she had found him fascinating. She had been curious, she had built him his finest armour, she had made him strong. It was Entrapta that was the first person to look upon him without disgust or fear. But now… He had nothing to offer her, no grand lab, not even ideas. She had stayed with him, well, had stayed in the Fright Zone for the technology it provided her. She could get that elsewhere now. It certainly wasn’t in this cell. That thrill of discovery was certainly not in him. There was a whole universe out there. He was nothing now, he never really was. The illusion had been nice though, for a time.

With nothing to distract him, the thoughts were invasive, all consuming. He would find out. If she came, he’d know, he just had to be patient he kept telling himself. 

Five meal deliveries after he had first submitted the design, Bow and Adora arrived in his cell, Bow carrying a fresh tray of food, Adora carrying a metal case. They entered, Bow placing the tray on the table while Adora carried the box over to the bunk where Hordak still lay. 

“It’s ready,” said Bow excitedly, approaching. “I’ve looked over it, and I gotta say I’m glad I didn’t try to build it. It’s genius.”

Adora opened the case and looked inside. A look of confusion spread over her features.

“Umm… How does it work?”

“Let me,” said Bow, reaching into the case and pulling out the system. He held it up for Hordak to see.

Comparatively to his old armour it was tiny, consisting of several straps attached to plugs that would fit into his ports. The largest parts of it were two panels that would fit one across his chest, the other his back. They would fit easily under his robes and because of their sleekness would likely go unnoticed. Near the top of the chest piece was set a crystal. He recognised it at once. 

“Do you wanna try it on?” asked Adora. 

Hordak nodded his head once, briefly. His throat was tight. 

Slowly he pulled back the blankets on his bed and eased his legs over the thin mattress until they fell over the side of the bunk, his feet hitting the floor with a dull thud. Taking a deep breath he attempted to rise. Noticing his struggle, Adora bent quickly and, hooking him under the arms, lifted him to his feet. He let out a hiss of annoyance. He would have managed it alone. 

He reached out a clawed finger and examined the port plugs. He could tell even from this brief examination that they would fit perfectly. 

“Could you leave me alone for a moment?” he asked. 

“Why?” asked Adora.

“We have been over this. I need to disrobe in order to attach the device.” 

“Will you be okay?” asked Bow doubtfully.

Hordak just glared at him. Bow hurriedly put the system back into the case and left the cell, Adora followed. 

“Just give us a shout if you need some help,” she said.

Hordak nodded once again before turning his attention to the case. He let out a long sigh. It was time for the testing phase.

Balancing himself against the end of the cabinet he slipped his robes down so they hung against his narrow waist, exposing his torso to the air. He avoided looking down, a lifelong habit. Next he picked up the device by its straps and slowly pulled it over his head, arms twinging at the odd angles. He wobbled dangerously, but pressed himself more firmly against the metal surface. The panels slid across across his skin, cool and hard until they settled in place, matching his contours perfectly. It was light and quickly warmed, he could barely feel it. 

With some difficulty he began attaching the plugs to his ports. It had been a lot easier with the assistance that he had had in the Fright Zone, robotic or... otherwise. One by one he was able to slot them into place, straining uncomfortably to reach those on his back. They glided in smoothly, unlike those on his first suit, which had grated, often sticking. Finally he managed to insert the last, clicking it into place before adjusting the straps, the device settling into position. It was like a second skin.

He raised a clawed finger, taking a deep breath and pressed the crystal in, there was a faint click. A warm sensation immediately flowed over every inch of his body. He straightened at once his spine lengthening, throwing his shoulders back, raising his chin high. Stepping away from the cabinet he noted his legs were sturdy. The tremble was gone. Pain that been constantly gnawing at him melted away, fading into the background to a much more manageable level. He flexed his arms and stretched up long and tall. His limbs were lighter, there was almost no effort in moving them, and he didn’t even have to think about it. 

Dropping the old robe he reached into the cabinet and pulled on a fresh one. The support system wasn’t visible below it. Relief washed over him. His body held him up, his fatigue had significantly diminished. It was like taking a breath after too long underwater.

He marched over to the table, a feat that only a few minutes previously would have taken a huge mental build up, and a slow and painful undertaking. He lifted the chair with no problem and slid it neatly under the table. Turning back to his old foe, the cabinet, he flexed his fingers gently over its sides in anticipation before lifting it from the floor. It was heavy, but he could manage it. He lowered it carefully, his back twinging warningly, his arms straining. There were clearly limitations in place on the capacity of the device, but it was more than he could have hoped for. It would keep him going.

“You look better,” said Adora. 

She and Bow were hanging back in the doorway to the cell.

“It works,” replied Hordak, simply. 

“I’m glad!” said Bow, “look, any problems, Entrapta said to pass on the message and she can tweak it. She wasn’t able to test it first, obviously...”

Hordak merely nodded in reply. His throat was tight again. 

“We’ll leave you to it.”

Hordak stood, unmoving for several minutes after hearing the door clang closed before moving over to his bunk. He lay, curled on top of the covers. His fingers rested gently on the crystal as tears sprung from the corners of his eyes. He couldn’t stop them. 

She had made this for him. But now he was confused. She had broken into Brightmoon, even if she wasn’t allowed here she could have come, she could have made some excuse about testing, she could have gotten herself here for this but she hadn’t. Entrapta hadn’t come. She hadn’t wanted to. He knew that now. He even understood why.

Everything had changed at the trial, maybe even before that. He wondered how she must have felt, hearing it all laid out before them all. Alone in that lab together had been a kind of sanctuary, but outside of it the Horde had continued its colonisation and war, its plague on Etheria. His Horde, his Fright Zone. Horde Prime had nothing to do with that. He, Hordak had brought that to this planet. He had done it all for Prime, but that was where the crucial point lay. Cut off from the hive-mind, he was alone, far from the control of his once master. He, Hordak, was to blame. The conqueror, the invader... the problem.

If he had only met her sooner… No. If only he had realised sooner. The towns and cities and kingdoms destroyed. The lives lost and enslaved. He had brought his own curse and instead of choosing to be free, he had chosen to spread it. He thought of the lives of the Horde soldiers, indoctrinated not into Prime’s army, but his own. The horror and fear they had spread. The carnage his machines left in their wake. He could have done so much else with his technology for this backwater planet but instead he had torn into its flesh with greed. For power. For recognition. For Horde Prime. 

In his first steps on this world, that first silence of his life, he had made a choice. The choice to continue in Prime’s image. If only he had decided the other way. If only he had made the choice to be strong. Now, there was too much to regret.

Hordak wept for his choices. He wept for their consequences.


	5. Chapter 5

“Brightmoon log day 26.”

“Bow has just reported that Hordak’s support unit works, a success! It would seem that my previous worries that the micro size of its components would render in ineffectual were unfounded. I’d like to begin development on an even smaller model, theoretically if I can build in a microscopic level then it would be possible to manufacture one where only the port plugs and power crystal are visible. Ohhh! There’s so many possibilities if I can crack tiny tech!

Glimmer came down earlier as well. She wanted to know when I’d be out of Brightmoon and even offered to move all of my work on the spaceships over to Dryl which was very nice of her. Buuuuut, if I move back to Dryl then I’d be too far away to work on my secret project. 

Oh don’t worry Emily, I’ve soundproofed the room! 

Anyway, the secret project. I still haven’t made up my mind on what the right thing to do is, it’s a _moral dilemma_! I _could_ enhance my jammer, smash through the magical field and break Hordak out of prison, it wouldn’t even take that long. And that’s probably the right thing to do for him, and he is my friend, and probability dictates that he won’t _like_ being in prison. Buuuuuut, all of the Princesses seem to want him in there, so they wouldn’t be very happy with me for removing him... And they’re my friends now, too. I’d like Hordak to not be in prison, and I’d like the Princesses to not be mad at me, but I think they’re mutually exclusive.

I know Hordak has done some bad things, but we all make mistakes. Even the Princesses have done some bad things. But that’s how we learn and move on, that’s what progress is! I _know_ that Hordak was making progress, I saw him, he didn’t want to to be with Prime any more… Then on the ship he saved me. 

But I failed him, I couldn’t make the Princesses understand at the trial… 

I couldn’t say too much about what happened before the portal was activated because Hordak didn’t, he seems to highly value privacy and... he trusts me, at least… I think he does. I’d like to keep that. I thought he would explain it better anyway but then he didn’t say _anything_ at the trial, even though Prime is gone now and can’t hurt him any more. He didn’t even try to defend himself, to show them, or did he think he didn’t need to? Maybe if he’d said more, or maybe if I had tried to explain more? No, I don’t think that’s right... I was correct not to break his trust. I stuck to the facts and they should have been enough but they weren’t. 

They were all just so _sure_ he hadn’t changed even though I tried to tell them. 

I still don’t know what the right thing to do is and usually problems are so much fun! Weighing up options with potentially _unexpected_ and _dangerous_ outcomes..! This problem though… It just makes me sad.

It’s not like there’s anywhere to go even if I did help him escape, they’d find us. Dryl is the first place they’d look. The Crimson Waste could be an option but it would be hard to continue my experiments from there. I could get a lot of data though, I’d love to know how life sustains in such a harsh climate! My theory is that- Wait, this should go in a separate log.”

…

"Brightmoon log day 26 continued."

“Where did I get to? Oh! Right! My work is all here now, it’d be hard to transport it in secret. Besides, I don’t want to upset the Princesses and they _really_ need my help with the space project. I can’t help them _and_ be on the run from them at the same time. Can I? Maaaaybe if I… No. I can’t.

I need a solution soon because my productivity has dropped. There has to be a way they will let me see him at least, I’ve tried asking so many times but they don’t think it’s a good idea. If only the field of negotiation was as accessible as the field of science! 

Deliberations inconclusive.”

“Hey Hordak,” came a jarringly familiar voice.

He looked up from his seat on the bunk to see Catra standing on the other side of the bars holding his meal tray. She looked skittish, as if readying herself to bolt, her tail flicking nervously from side to side. 

“Catra.”

“You got me today, the others are busy, you know, trying to get to space and everything.”

Hordak didn’t answer, only studied his former Force Captain thoughtfully. 

“So… Where do I put it?”

“Put what?”

“The… Tray.”

“The table. There is a slot in the bars so that you don’t have to open the door and risk my escape.”

“No need to act so… You,” she muttered.

Catra slid the tray through the slot that Hordak had indicated but paused as she turned to leave, looking closely at him. He barely registered her presence any more, already his eyes were unfocused, lost in the sea of thoughts. 

“I thought they fixed you… They, um, asked me to check.”

He turned his gaze slowly on her, raising his brow slightly.

“They did.”

She stood there uncomfortably, clearly torn between wanting to leave and fulfilling some duty.

“Are you okay? You seem kinda...”

She shrugged, acting nonchalant, but… There was something real there. Concern? It seemed unlikely after everything, but there it was. A small tinge of worry creasing her brow. Her ears were back. 

“I am well, you may pass on the message.”

She was silent for a while, before speaking hesitantly.

“I wasn’t really asking for… them.”

He looked at her in surprise at the implication. She looked awkward again, avoiding his eyes.

“It’s… Hard. I get it. I remember when-” Catra cut herself off, shaking her head.

Hordak swallowed. The silence grew between them and Hordak knew they were both thinking the same. The Fright Zone, the Horde, everything they had conquered together. Prime. But he had conquered them both. Coming back to Etheria from all of that... She had some understanding of that too. Mind awash, he didn’t know how else to focus his queries, his pain. He decided to take a chance. 

“How did you get them to forgive you Catra? After everything…” Hordak cut himself off before his voice broke.

She sighed, her ears lowered as she avoided his eyes, rubbing the back of her neck.

“They don’t, not really.”

“Then how come you are out there? With them?”

There was a long pause. He felt he had overstepped, he knew he had overstepped. This was not fair on the girl-

“I- I don’t know. We hurt them. I hurt them. I hurt Adora. For a long time. So I guess it takes a long time for the forgiveness too. When you’ve hurt someone you have to try, try everyday, even when it’s so hard. When sometimes they look at you and you know they’re remembering that hurt. But you have to keep going. Keep trying. You have to show them. So that’s what I do, and maybe one day that trust will be back, and they’ll forgive me. You can’t force it. But I’m scared… I’m scared that it might never happen, but it’s not for me to decide. I just do what I can to show them.”

She stared at the floor, tears bubbling in her mismatched eyes, she wiped them away fiercely before looking up and meeting his eyes. His mouth was open as he stared at her. He nodded. 

“I… Thank you Catra. You have given me much to deliberate on.”

His chest felt heavy. As she made to leave he stopped her.

“The burden you carry… I am partially to blame. I too, have this… This burden. I understand. If you ever want to… Well, you know where I am.”

A soft flash of surprise moved over her features. She nodded. 

“A lot’s happened huh?”

“A lot has happened.”

“See you, Hordak...”

She left, her barely audible footsteps retreating down the corridor. 

Hordak stood and began pacing his cell. The thoughts flooded his mind, and this time he let them, refusing to shy away. All except those of her… For that he was not yet ready. 

There was so much for which he needed to be forgiven. Too much. It was not something he could ask of anyone, he realised. The things that he had done were too heinous, and that was a gift too great for him. The pain and chaos of his reign were still felt by the people of this planet, and that was probably never going to change. The loss that his actions had inflicted was not something that he could undo. 

But there were things that he could do now. He couldn’t go back, but he could remake that choice, this time going the route he should have all those years ago. He could choose his own path now, and he could try, try every day, to make things right. He could show them his change. Not just for Etheria, but for himself, because it was the right thing to do. He had caused the planet to suffer too much to expect anything in return, and he didn’t, but he owed it to them to do this. 

A clone, made in the image of another, his life had been of servitude, of gaining glory and power for this false god. Tearing down whatever stood in the way. When the choice had come the clone had continued, unquestioningly. Now that clone had been granted that same choice again. This time he was not going to pick wrongly again. It was time to make a name of his own, truly. It was time to choose what Hordak really meant.


	6. Chapter 6

That evening, or morning, he was still unsure of which, Glimmer brought him his meal. She pushed it through the slot in the bars hurriedly and made to leave. He had been sitting there, impatiently awaiting her arrival, but now he leapt to his feet, jumping up to the bars and holding them.

“Glimmer! A moment please?”

She paused and looked at him frustrated.

“If it really is a moment, I don’t have the time.”

“I’d like to offer my help.”

“Your help? With what?” She let out a derisive laugh. 

“I know that you are planning on going to space.”

“How? Who told you?” she asked frowning.

“It is the logical next step for the rebellion. Your actions sparked further rebellions on other planets. It was the source of much frustration and embarrassment for Horde Prime. Even though he is dead there is much of his forces still mobilised, many other worlds are in need of aid. I know from experience that you and the Princess Alliance will not deny them that.”

“Get to your point.”

“Interstellar travel is vital to this venture,” he said hurriedly. “I have some experience there. I can help. I am not asking to be let out. But I can help in other ways. Designs, calculations, mapping, anything you need. Under supervision of course, or whatever you see fit. Please… I would like to be of some assistance. This is an area I know that I can benefit you.”

She stared at him hard, a frown creasing her small face. 

“I’ll think about it.”

“Thank you.”

She was already walking away muttering about keeping vital information from prisoners. 

The time passed slowly while he waited for her answer. It agitated him each time he was delivered food, when all he craved was an answer, but he calmed himself. He had tried, he reminded himself, the decision on what to do with that was theirs to make. It was not their duty to put him at ease. It was his, however, to try, and to try everyday. So he did not try to rush them. He waited, as patiently as he could. 

He was sleeping lightly again, for brief periods, now that his body was stronger. A fact that was a great relief to him; this severely limited the dreams of Prime, in addition to his increased mobility. But that loss of control awaited him the moment his lids drooped. The fog. The worst ones were the simplest. Sitting on a chair he hadn’t intended to, attempting to write but finding himself etching coordinates instead. Prime was everywhere. The hand that slipped itself over his own when selecting the colour of today's ration bar. The turn to the short way around rather than the scenic route. The settling on his back in bunk, instead of the more palatable side. Everywhere.

The shortened sleeping cycles did not limit his time for thought however. He was plagued by memories of the past, but now, he let them come. It much was deserved after all. He allowed himself to be lost in past decisions, smoky battles, reports of damage and destruction. He faced them as best as he could, the sickened feeling in his stomach growing and growing. How could he have done this? And for what? But he had. Now he did not shy away. He remembered them all. The wronged. He kept their faces in his thoughts, imagined or remembered. 

The question of why plagued him. There was a disconnect somewhere. He couldn’t follow his own reasoning. But at the time he had been so sure...

Try. Try for a future. For Hordak believed in a future now, he realised. A future in which he was helping, doing something right. If he helped he could slowly begin to prove himself. But no, it was more than that. He wanted to help. He wanted to work. He wanted to play a part in a better future.

Not his own. 

He did not expect or want that, there was nothing for him anyway. But there could be one for others, whoever they were. His actions may have destroyed their pasts, but he knew that his actions could also improve their futures. He owed that to them. He owed them a lot more, but he’d have to settle for this. 

Sometimes he wondered what Entrapta’s future would look like. The thought clenched his insides like an icy fist and he pushed it aside. The one whose opinion mattered, matters, most to him, of all. He just hoped it would be happy. It hurt too much to dwell on that thought over all others. He knew he should, but he just couldn’t bring himself to. Weak. 

But he could be of use. Helpful. 

Horde Prime’s sneer snaked across his mind, washing away the thought like a cold fog. Any other clone could be helpful. They were all equal. They were physically useful. They were numerous. They had knowledge of space, of travel, of the universe. They could do more than a defective prisoner...

He had to try.

He knew his technological knowledge was superior, he had had far more time to learn and improve than they. That could be of use?

But they could learn too. 

That was a good thing. More willing hands, unsullied, rebuilding, making their mark. Living.

Try.

Cold mirth played across those green eyes. The mouth curled in a smirk.

Just try.

Hordak breathed through the choked feeling in his chest.

“Okay, you can help.”

Hordak immediately jumped to his feet and crossed the cell in a quick stride bringing him closer to Glimmer who was standing in the corridor. She held a stack of papers in her hand.

“You’ll do this on our terms, and if I suspect you, even for a second, of sabotage this will stop. You will be punished further. I get it, you’re bored, you want something to do. But… We could probably use some help. Do you understand?”

“I do,” he answered, trying to ignore the pounding in his heart.

“We’re building a fleet with the leftovers from Prime’s ships. But they need to be adapted, they were designed for clones or something. As is they’re too short range, we need ships that can fight, be out there as bases, travel huge distances, to be fit for Etherian pilots. There’s a lot to do. Entrapta is leading the project, I believe you two are acquainted.”

His stomach tightened uncomfortably.

“This will not be like last time, so don’t go thinking you’re building your little Horde army up again. You work for us.”

“Of course.”

“She needs you to fill in some gaps in her knowledge about Prime’s tech in order to continue with the project. Apparently it’s like nothing we have on Etheria, not even the First One’s stuff compares.”

“Yes, it-”

“Just work through this,” interrupted Glimmer, shoving the stack of papers through the slot and onto the table. “No data pads. You have a pencil. Just get this thing moving again.”

He nodded, mouth dry. Glimmer looked tired. She hurried away to some other pressing business, leaving him alone once more.

Hordak quickly sat down at the table and pulled the stack towards him eagerly. The top sheet consisted of a brief note from Entrapta. His insides squeezed so tightly that he could barely breathe. This was her work that he held in his hands. They trembled slightly as he began to read.

“HORDAK-  
In this bundle is my work on this section. Make of it what you will. I have some gaps. Some of it I’ve worked out but the tech is complex. So can you have a look? You know this stuff well. Only need answers on this for now. Unless you can think of something I’ve not?  
-ENTRAPTA”

Hordak paused, tears welling in his eyes as he reread the dry little note that she had written for him.

She had never written to him before. Whenever she had wanted to talk to him during their time in the Fright Zone she had gone to find him, leaping across the room or plunging down from a vent, sometimes waking him or interrupting his other work in the excitement of her discovery. He had never minded of course. The memory hurt.

He ran a finger across the uncharacteristically succinct note. Her writing was barely legible, at least the rest was typed. 

The paper crinkled slightly as his trembling fingers held it. The little piece of her. 

The longer Hordak read, the more confused he became. The questions within the document were illogical. The work itself was brilliant, of course, he had expected nothing less. But the ‘gaps’ he was expected to fill in were mundane. He had worked with her for a long time, he knew what she was capable of and the blank spots in her plans were well within her capacity to work out. There were even a couple of occasions where she had done so in the section immediately following. Why had she requested his assistance with this? He could not understand.

He put the thoughts aside and set to work anyway, filling in the gaps and adding truly unnecessary explanations. It was what he had promised. It felt good to do something of use, even if he was unsure how much he was actually needed here.


	7. Chapter 7

With each meal delivery came a new stack of papers for him to look over. He took to them with gusto, each one as extraneous as the original, but it gave him something to do. It filled his days with purpose. He was trying, trying to help, to make things better for everyone. Plus it intrigued him to know what state the space project was in and these documents gave him some insight. 

There were no more notes from Entrapta, and he tried hard, fighting, to keep her from his thoughts. There were however diagrams, pages of calculations, measurements, charts of the stars, designs for weaponry, space suits, engine parts. Designs for gravity simulators, a medical isolation bay, remote control bots and drones, safe storage units for unstable samples, communication stations, short range teleportation. The scope seemed endless.

Though there was no overall outline he was able to build himself a clear image of what the Princess Alliance had in mind. They appeared to be designing several large ships to be used as outposts, huge vessels able to sustain hundreds of people at a time, for Etherian soldiers or refugees he was unsure. In addition there was a range of smaller crafts, quicker, more mobile and heavily armed, clearly to be used in combat situations. There was research on and plans for armoured space suits capable of withstanding a range of conditions as well as adapted weaponry. Etheria was evidently gearing up for a long war.

He busied himself and the days turned smoothly into weeks without his notice. 

That his personal support system was in full working order remained a great source of relief; his body was back to its usual sleep requirements, sporadic brief periods of rest. Each day he rose with only minor discomfort, his muscles sustaining him at his desk or around his cell. He did not test them further, pleasuring in the mobility it gave him, and not having to sleep for long intervals. By the end of each working period though he would have to return to his bunk, attempting to contort himself into a comfortable position, venturing to alleviate the days build up of his symptoms. The general gratitude that he experienced each day however, even after all this time, was immeasurable.

The upshot of his short sleeping habits was his ability to dedicate a vast quantity of his time to the project, and for that he was also grateful. With his head full of calculations there was less room for Prime. Hordak was able to push him away during his waking moments, forcing that sneering face aside and replacing it with more useful thoughts. 

He was unsuccessful during his periods of rest, however, so he compensated by doing so as little as possible. Better to be working and useful anyway. It would not do to be idle.

Hordak was so deep in his work that he barely noticed Glimmer approach.

“Hordak,” she said.

“I am almost finished with the most recent document, if you do not mind waiting just a moment,” he said, scribbling quickly in his small neat writing, “then you can give it straight to Entrapta, it is the last set of calculations needed for the micro craft thrusters.”

“Or you could just give it to me? Unless… You want to hold it too Glimmer?” She asked politely, before continuing on fervently. “I think I calculated for too much power, apparently it’s ‘unnecessarily dangerous’ to the pilot, but just imagine the speeds it could reach, whizzing out alone in _space_! I can’t _wait_ to test it! Ohhh, let me see!”

Hordak froze, his pencil hovering over the unfinished set of numbers as the familiar excited voice filled his cell. He turned slowly, disbelievingly, to see Entrapta standing on the other side of the bars next to Glimmer. Her face was pressed into a gap as she was attempting to peer eagerly over his shoulder, bouncing on the balls of her feet, her hair reaching through to take the paper from him. He let it slide between his fingers. His mouth hung open.

“I’ve brought Entrapta to work with you _under supervision_ ,” said Glimmer warningly, “we really need to get this project moving along more quickly, people need us out there, and apparently-”

“We’ll be far more productive if we can discuss ideas in person. Passing notes around is such an inefficient scientific method! Unless you were trying to calculate the aerodynamics of paper of course. Buuuut this will really speed up getting to space,” interrupted Entrapta brightly. 

“And assisting the rebellion against the remnants of Horde Prime’s army, rescuing the other planets and ending the war for good,” said Glimmer pointedly.

Entrapta smiled benignly at her and blinked.

“Entrapta...” said Glimmer warningly, “we talked about this… About priorities...”

“Yes... That!”

Glimmer rolled her eyes.

“I’ll be working over there, to if you get up to anything...”

“Yes, yes we know,” said Entrapta, her hair plucking the cell key from Glimmers waist and unlocking the door.

“Hey I didn’t say you could-”

“The time wasted passing things through the bars is time that could be spent in space! Proximity is beneficial to productivity in this instance,” cried Entrapta, her finger in the air, as she marched into the cell and perched on her hair, leaning over the table that Hordak was sitting at. 

“Fine,” snapped Glimmer, “I’ll be over here.”

She marched a short way up the corridor before taking a seat on the floor and beginning to bark orders at someone on her data pad. 

Hordak turned deliriously to look at Entrapta, so close, after all this time. She was already nose deep in her own data pad, pulling up pages for him to see. As she augmented on her work so far he forced himself to concentrate, feeling a little giddy and a little embarrassed and ashamed of himself. What had he expected? Of course she was only here to work. He had allowed himself a glimmer of hope with her once, but that was a long time ago. They had had their reunion just after Prime’s death, and a lot had happened during that time, a lot had been revealed. He could not expect another from her now, especially after his trial, now that she knew everything. Besides, their aim now was only to work on the space project.

He had been so used to her almost fond demeanour around him that this straight to business attitude had jarred him. Things were truly different now, he could not dwell on their shared past, on that little spark of hope that had flickered occasionally when she entered his lab or was inexplicably kind to him…

He winced at his own absurdity as his stomach tightened. How could he have allowed himself that when he was… him. Just a defective clone. He had been a fool to think that she had not minded at the time, he had mistaken her warmth and eagerness for something more, when it was clear that her focus had been the technology and research he had been able to provide. Not for him. 

And now… Well now he was not only a defective clone, but a prisoner, with no title, no lab, a war criminal… 

He shifted uncomfortably in his seat crushing the sense of joy that had exploded through him from first being in her presence. It shattered inside him sending icy shards through his heart. She was racing through a detailed theory on the capacity of the thrusters. Hadn’t this been what he had dreamt of? To work alongside her once more? 

But those were just fantasies. Reality weighed heavily in his chest. His past seemed to crouch in the cell beside them, drawing the warmth and light out of the air. All of his decisions and the loss… They resided here in this cell. With him. They sapped at everything, like parasitic creatures, drawing from him. He let them. It was deserved. 

He was just lucky to be allowed in her proximity.

He wallowed, feeling her genius to wash over him like a wave for a while longer, basking in that display of brilliance that he had once so enjoyed before remembering his promise to help. Focusing his mind away from his distractions he joined in where he could, there was much work to be done.

Hordak could barely believe it when Entrapta returned the next day, waltzing through his cell door to take her place at the table, immediately launching a programme her data pad for a mapping system of the stars. The previous day had felt like an illusion. He watched her as she gazed dreamily at the constellations she had already programmed in, laughing excitedly as they calculated the pull radius of a black hole. He barely noticed their chaperone, this time Bow, taking his place in the corridor and pulling out an arrow to work on. 

This pattern continued for the next few days; she would burst into his cell and they would get to work immediately, their sitter, invariably Adora, Bow or Glimmer, remaining in the corridor. They were indeed able to work more quickly in this manner, smoothing over issues in an hour that would have, in the previous weeks, taken days of back and forth between the documents. He slipped into the routine appreciatively, pushing his sluggish mind to work in company once again. 

It occurred to him that this arrangement was in sharp contrast to their original back at the Fright Zone. This time it was he who was assisting her in her experiments. He was not the one in control. This was far more suitable. With her at the helm he knew his efforts would be worthy, entwined with something good. His… reparations, as he had come to think of them.

Her presence kept his mind occupied but every time she was called away at the end of the day, sweeping herself and her equipment off out of the door he was left alone. Left alone to picture every instance of the day, every expression on her face. Left alone to imagine how, if things had been different, she would turn to him and they could share that joy as they shared their work. If only he had been different. 

The creatures, pushed away by the distraction she provided, skittered back out of the shadows.

His attention was diverted, one afternoon, by the appearance of a guard in the corridor, she bent to whisper something to Glimmer who cursed angrily and cast a suspicious glance over at the cell before hurrying after the guard. The door slammed behind them. He looked quickly at Entrapta, but she was deep in thought, typing furiously on her data pad. He took her lead and tried to focus on the work once again, ignoring his pounding heart. He bent low over his sketch and added some more measurements, he was here to work, after all. 

“Oh!” she said, a few minutes later, breaking the silence and looking around, “we’re alone.”

He swallowed nervously as she rummaged in her pocket and pulled out a small device. It was a metal box with two prongs on the top and a small switch on the side as well as various dials. She flicked it and adjusted the dials. 

“I think that worked!” she said brightly, “It’s my new jammer. I tweaked it to work on magical sound fields too. I got the hermit-man from Beast Island to explain how they work, and its _fascinating_! Basically, the field covers an area and the mage can just scry into it whenever they want using any object that carries sound waves well. He uses an aluminium box. All I had to do was adjust my jammer so that it would form its own barrier, pushing the magical one away with itself at the centre. The circumference is roughly… Here.”

She demonstrated by hopping a rough circle around the room, using her hair to transport her quickly, swinging her easily upwards when furniture or other obstacles got in her way.

“I made sure to install my own broadcast so there’d be no _suspicious silence_. Anyone listening to the field now will hear a low level sound recording of me in my lab. I don’t know what it picked up exactly but it’s a normal work room level.”

Hordak doubted any lab of Entrapta’s had ever had a ‘normal work room level’ of sound, but he did not say anything, just stared at her. She smiled at him, making his heart flutter. He chastised himself; he needed to be more in control of his emotions. It would hurt all the more when he was alone later if he allowed himself this, but her presence was intoxicating. 

She paused at the end of marking her barrier’s circumference and looked at him, her hair tangling itself together a little at the ends.

“Your eyes are red again, I know you don’t have a mirror, so I thought you might like to know.”

He blinked in surprise. His eyes had turned red and his hair darkened years before in Primes forces when his defect had first come into fruition. He had been horrified, not just at the blow to his strength, but the very visible nature of it; a clone was not supposed to stand out. His skin and wasting arms could be covered but his hair and eyes marked him immediately as different, imperfect. The change was one of the first signifiers that had alerted Prime to his condition. 

“I prefer it to the green,” she added, “but if you don’t I’m sure I can make something for you to cover it.”

He tried to mask his confusion, a compliment had not been what he was expecting. 

“No! I- It’s fine. Red is fine,” he said hesitantly, he had come to hate the green, “are you sure we cannot be heard?”

He glanced around nervously. He had not been sure if the cell was bugged, or that he couldn’t be heard through the door, he had guessed correctly then, that it was. He had been operating under the assumption that anything but his thoughts could be heard.

A flash of his dreams, the fog… Well, even his thoughts.

“I’m sure. Imp and Emily helped me test it! Imp hated it by the way, he couldn’t spy on us. Look anyway, I’ll prove it.”

She let out a yell, extending herself up on her hair to accentuate it, before falling back to her feet laughing. It reverberated around him. The skin on his arms prickled.

“I tested it extensively in the castle. You try.” She smiled at him, sure of her invention. Proud even. He could not blame her. If she was correct it was groundbreaking. Technology able to disrupt the flow of magic was mostly theoretical.

He hesitated before letting out a gruff shout.

“Go on, more!”

“I do not...”

“Shout!” she yelled.

That smile… How could he not do her bidding?

He roared, letting out a yell not dissimilar to that one on his first day in the cell, only this one was bourne not of rage, but of… something else. He finished, chuckling. The sound of his laughter surprised him more than anything else. Entrapta looked at him appreciatively. He felt himself relax a tiny increment. They were alone, and she didn’t seem to be acting as if his presence was disgusting, disgraceful or mandatory.

“Did you get my note?” she asked.

He was confused for a moment before remembering.

“On the first document? I did.”

“Did you… Did you like it?” Her voice was small.

His confusion deepened, ‘like’ was a strange word to describe it.

“The work was very technologically sound. Though I do not think my assistance was required in the calculations, your ability is far superior to my own.”

She looked at him strangely before flushing slightly.

“I am sorry, did I miss something? The fault is with me, I was… Perhaps a little rusty, I had little to occupy my mind prior.”

“Well! You should definitely look over it again.”

“Of course! I think I have it still.” 

He began to march over to the cabinet where he had taken to storing some of the paperwork.

“Wait!” she cried, launching herself across the cell by her hair to stand in his path, before suggesting, “maybe you could look at it later?”

He paused, more confused than ever, when the sound of the door opening made them both turn. Footsteps could be heard in the corridor and the sound of Bow whistling. As Hordak went to sit back down he noticed Entrapta’s hair curl around the jammer and whisk it out of sight. 

They got back to work immediately, her to her data pad and he to his sketch. He glanced over at her as she looked up, their eyes meeting. Her cheeks reddened and she looked back at her work quickly. The rest of the session passed without incident and it was everything Hordak could do to keep his mind on the task at hand. 

As soon as Entrapta and Bow had left Hordak went straight over to the cabinet and began rifling through the papers it contained. It didn’t take him long to find the document; he had been meticulous in his organisation. He pulled out the sheaf of papers and brought it over to the table. Her note was lying on top of it. He began looking over the work again. Did he like it? He supposed: the calculations were sound and some of the plans were the strokes of a true genius, save for the gaps he had been required to fill in. She hadn’t really needed him to do that. She… She hadn’t needed him to do that. Which suggested there was another reason for sending him the papers. To keep him occupied? But she wouldn’t ask him to look over them again now that he had plenty to do.

A code perhaps? 

Hordak began scouring the document closely keeping in mind every code, cipher, signal and messaging system he had ever encountered. They were numerous so he limited them to the ones he’d expect her to have come across; of course the various programming codes, Etherian light signalling, binary, Morse, shipping codes, even the system used in the limited Fright Zone library. She would know that he had no access to chemicals or heat which would rule out invisible messages. He scoured the document, every letter, every number. Nothing. He closed it with frustration. Whatever she had written was beyond his mental capacities, he knew she hated having to curb her mental prowess so that others could understand but so far she’d never had to do that on his behalf. Until now. She had over estimated him.

His eyes fell on the short note at the front of the document. Handwritten, unlike the rest. Succinct, unlike her. His breathing hitched as he held it up with trembling hands. How had he not noticed it before? How had his captors not? It was so simple. With one shaking finger he touched the first letter of each sentence, mouthing the words as they formed. 

‘I miss you.’

There was nothing else it could be. It was for him. She… missed him.


	8. Chapter 8

Hordak could not get the thought settled in his head. She missed him. She had written a coded note to tell him that she missed him. She had risked punishment to do so. It frustrated and astounded him that it had taken this long and a prompting to notice, clearly he was not as intelligent as he had once fancied himself. It was a small comfort that it had escaped his captors notice too, for surely they would have scoured each document for secret messages. It’s what he would have done in their position. He was imprisoned partially for his work with Entrapta after all… 

What did it mean? He mentally shook himself at once; Entrapta was very forthright, a quality he greatly admired in her. The note meant exactly what she had written. The question then was… Why? She had all she could possibly want now, technology beyond her wildest fantasies, recognition, projects, interstellar exploration, the support of her friends and peers. He wasn’t providing any of that for her. He was… Nothing. 

Could she have been coerced? It seemed rather more plausible but he didn’t think that that was his captors style, nor her own. There was no gain in it, except to make him miserable. He was already imprisoned, and now that he considered it properly he did not think it likely that the Princess Alliance would add emotional torture to his correctional programme. 

Perhaps… Perhaps she really did miss him. 

But how could that be? He was really and truly nothing. While she had made it clear in the past that she had no problem with his… defects, he winced as he thought of them, her apparent affection for him was as problematic as it was confounding. For in addition to his defects, and his inability to offer her anything substantial, his notoriety would be damaging to her burgeoning reputation. She too had suffered connections to the Horde, and had worked hard, putting herself in danger over and over for the forgiveness that she was now able to enjoy. Association with him would not do her any favours…

There was something else, too, a notion that had flickered to the surface of his mind now and again but he had pushed it away out of a fear for what it might mean. Now was the time to face it. Despite everything negative that Horde Prime had done to him, a truth he was only just beginning to understand, he had, for decades, been loyal to him. He had been punished, derided, cast out and still he had crawled for Prime. What if the same misplaced loyalty was true of Entrapta and himself? While he knew, now, that Prime’s carefully crafted devotion of his followers was intentional, it did not rule out that he, Hodak, could have unwittingly cast the same curse on Entrapta. His weakness was a disease that riddled his very core, he did not want to infect anyone with it ever again, least of all her. 

But perhaps he already had. She had been dazzled by the contents of his sanctum from which he had ruled a powerful force. What if at some point during all their work together he had ensnared her the way that he had been with Prime? Even now she was suffering the delusion that he was worth missing. He had, somewhere along the line, imparted some of his old Lord’s tricks upon her.

No. Entrapta was strong where he was weak. She had seem through Prime immediately. She had seen through him immediately, too...

But still… If not that, what if he harmed her in some manner? What if she trusted him and he failed her? He had spent a lifetime at war and did not know how to be at peace. He had no idea what the life of a regular person would look like nor how to go about it. His habits and instincts were honed to survival, to subduing his enemies, to the harm of others. He had never spent a day at rest. His first reaction was always to lash out. He had been trained to present a powerful and dangerous force to all of Prime’s enemies. He had been created for it.

But what if it was deeper than that, even? He had consistently failed to keep Prime from his mind while he was alive. Even in death the conqueror plagued his thoughts and dreams. He had taken control with such ease over his weak mind, again and again. Why shouldn’t there still be elements of that remaining? The dreams were proof enough. Sleep after sleep Hordak floated along in a mist, barely conscious while his body performed without his permission. At one time, even his waking mind had run a similar course. Why shouldn’t it again? It frightened him. 

He could harm her. He could harm any of them.

Hordak’s heart began pounding as his mind ran on unrelenting, showing him image after image of harm, of destruction, of death. Of him, standing tall above it all, laughing. He sunk to his knees as the barbaric show kept unfolding before him. Ruined towns. Dead Princesses. Fire. Orphaned children. His arm, raising the gun, pointing it at… her. 

He let out a roar of pain and rage, throwing himself into the wall beside him, cutting off the image, repeatedly slamming his fist into the stone. Blood oozed up from his knuckles, leaving smudges across the grey. Pain obliterated anything else from his mind. A relief. He slowed, slumping. A whimper left his lips.

His shoulder sang with pain but he ignored it now, leaning his head against the cool stone, his hand resting gently beside it to support himself. Why couldn’t he be anyone else? Then he could…

But he wasn’t. 

His claws dug into the stone as he shuddered against it.

His trepidation grew as the hour of her return to his cell approached, the innocent excitement of spending a day working with her was long gone now. Now it was marred with worry and fear. What could he say to her? Perhaps he could request their separation? 

He did not like the idea. Her presence, no matter how professional he had assumed it to be, was the only semblance of comfort in his life. He had whiled away the painfully slow night time hours in anticipation of her return in the morning. But perhaps it was for the best. He knew his capacity for harm was too great.

That she missed him both confused and thrilled him. But she should not. He was incorrect. He was weak. He was dangerous. She would do better than to associate with him. 

His mind spun on hopping from thought to thought, awash with panic. 

The door opened at the end of the corridor, interrupting this flow, and he turned, forcing a calm appearance upon his exterior. Glimmer came into view on the other side of the bars, looking, if possible, even more stressed and harried than she had upon her last visit. The preparations were taking their toll on her.

With her, was King Micah. 

“This is unusual,” said Hordak, smoothly, masking his worry. He was unsure why the King would be here too. Was he being moved again? Or… Worse? He clutched his unease back into his chest. He must go with their whims. He wouldn’t fight.

“King Micah is here to assist me with some magic. You will be placed under a tracking spell. I can’t afford to waste time and resources watching you all the time. There is far too much to do and I think you have some idea of that now. Any breath of escape, even, and we will find you. There’s also your regular guard outside the door so don’t try anything. Entrapta has consented to one too.”

Hordak nodded, his uncertainty fading slightly. A tracking spell was not a problem; he had nowhere to go.

“Okay, dad,” she said, smiling at the King.

“I told you, you’re more than capable of doing this on your own, baby girl,” said Micah fondly. “You’re a good sorcerer.”

“Yeah, but you’re better, and this is important,” she replied, but the compliment seemed to please her.

King Micah stepped forward and moved his arms before him, creating a glowing pattern in the air where his fingers trailed. He pushed forward and it flew over Hordak, enveloping him for a moment in a pinkish light. It felt warm, then... nothing. If they hadn’t told him he wouldn’t have registered a difference. 

“Remember what I said, Hordak,” said Glimmer in a last warning as she and Micah left, hurrying away up the corridor. He watched them go, before turning back into his cell with a sigh. The spell made no difference to him, but it must be some comfort to his captors. 

But it did mean he would now be working alone with Entrapta. The flicker of joy was quickly quelled by an icy chill that spread over his body as he realised the potential ramifications. No, he tried to sooth himself, he was weaponless, guards lingered just outside of the door, and… Well, Entrapta knew where his power crystal was. His off switch.

A short while later he heard the door open again, and this time a single set of footsteps could be heard, along with a curious scraping noise. Frowning he went to peer out of the bars and into the corridor. He couldn’t help a small smile at the sight that greeted him. 

Entrapta was dragging what looked like half her lab down the wide corridor. He could see metal boxes, tools, even what was apparently an entire engine. Purple strands of hair wove themselves through and around the items. She caught sight of him watching and waved.

“Oh hi Hordak! We’re beginning to reach the limits of our theoretical and design work and we’re waaaay behind on actual construction and since you can’t come to the lab I’ve decided to bring some stuff to you!”

“And… Is Glimmer alright with this?” he asked, smirking slightly.

“I thought it best not to bother her with it!” she said brightly, finally hauling the equipment level with his cell and unlocking the door with her stolen key. She pulled out her jammer and flicked the switch, twiddling the dials. “Besides, we can leave it out here at night and that way you can’t be tempted to use it to escape with!”

“Indeed,” he replied, still smiling. He stepped hesitantly out of his cell to stand beside her. It was his first time out, and although he was still very much a prisoner, the act was oddly freeing. It was strange to have a different perspective on the corridor, even though it was only a metre from the door of his cell. He glanced at her as she rummaged through a box, happily, depositing its contents all over the floor. His stomach clenched a little as he observed her, but he knew he must speak.

“I… Got your note.”

She froze mid task and did not turn while she spoke. Her hair twitched at the mask perched on top of her head.

“Oh… Good.”

“It… Made me happy.” It was the truth. The idea that _she_ missed _him_ … But he could not have prepared himself for the surge he felt as she turned to face him, raising up on her hair as she beamed. The grey cell and corridor seemed to glow purple as she enveloped it. He drank in the sight of her, breath catching in his chest. She laughed in surprise, seeming to almost radiate joy. It was more than she bestowed on her machines… Almost. 

He hesitated, at odds with what he was about to say. It thrilled him that she was this happy, he couldn’t help it, despite everything. He wanted this, this joy with her for as long as she’d let him. Forever if he could. It filled him with a hope, perhaps things could be different, good. Even… A future? He wanted it all with her, in whatever capacity she would allow him in her life.

But still… He could not allow himself to be swept away by it. The fear leached its way into his chest, around him his creatures of the past prowled, observing. She did not deserve that. Not him.

The thought brought him back with a slow sinking of his heart. He looked away unable to meet her eyes and he felt his ears lower. He was unworthy of this. That kind of future, that kind of joy was reserved for others. If she would not then he had to distance himself from her. She should not have to associate with him at all but they were bound, for now, with work. He could protect her from the rest of his insidious poison. Something he hadn’t managed to do ever before. Protect her. 

He heard the words fall from his lips as if he was a vast distance away. 

“Yes. I am happy to have a lab partner once more. I missed working with you too, it is by far more productive. We should get started.”

It wasn’t a lie. It just wasn’t everything.

Her disappointment was palpable and he sensed rather than saw her turn away, heard the rustle of her hair pulling down her mask. 

“Oh...” she whispered. 

Under the pretence of bending to look in a box he blinked away his tears, needing to hide them from her. This was the right thing to do. She needn’t be connected to him in any manner than the necessity of their work. She could be free now from whatever it was that possessed her to miss him. There would be no more weakness to detract from her strength. 

He thought he could hear a small sob, echoing strangely as if coming from behind a metal mask.


	9. Chapter 9

“Brightmoon log day…

I’m not actually sure which day we’re up to now, 86, 87? I’ve been so busy with the space programme. Every day we’re getting closer and closer. Ohhh… I can’t wait! The focus is now on manufacture which is another thrilling aspect of scientific discovery. My work is more on track than ever now that I have some help. Hordak is… A good lab partner. 

He agrees. 

I was… disappointed. 

His response today was not the conclusion I had expected. I thought that he… liked me too. 

My hypothesis was that he needed time and to be rid of Horde Prime, but both those things have happened now. The fault must be in my own assumptions. I thought I knew him but current assessment shows I was mistaken. 

But I did my research! I was so sure! Hordak was displaying a lot of the signifiers of friendship and… A few of something more. 

I’m not ready to give up on him yet! I can’t. Hordak called me his friend once and I want that again, not just my lab partner. I need to remind him what having a friend means. I think there might be something I’ve missed too. There must be, because if not... 

New project. A social experiment?

I’m going to go over my old data from our interactions in the Fright Zone and compare it to my current observations. I may have to change my initial hypothesis; they were based on my own assumptions that have proven to be inaccurate now. 

This has become a source of distraction for me and I’d like to see a firm conclusion. I know that when an experiment is not yielding any results a good scientist will make the choice to abort it or adjust the parameters. But… I’m not quite ready to give it up as a failure just yet. 

I just…

...

Further experimentation required.”

Hordak lifted the glowing battery up by its casing and slid it into place, he grunted with the effort, muscles protesting. Next he began screwing it into place in the engine they had been building. It was mostly assembled but a lot of the pieces still lay strewn about on the floor. He had tried to keep them in a logical order but whenever Entrapta joined him they were left in a chaotic disarray, a habit of hers he was more than used to at this point. He didn’t mind; he’d much prefer she was able to focus on her work, than on meaningless tidying up.

The progress of their work had been hampered slightly by Hordak’s inability to leave the prison. They had compensated by building their prototypes in sections in the corridor with Entrapta finishing them outside in her temporary Brightmoon lab. It was frustrating and cumbersome at times but they adapted. He’d have loved to have witnessed the building and testing phase but he settled for Entrapta’s detailed and overjoyed descriptions. 

They hadn’t spoken about the note since that day several weeks prior and he was grateful that she didn’t push the issue further. That he had hurt her caused him such great sorrow that he didn’t know what he would do if she challenged him on his words. She had seemed to accept it and was behaving as normal. Though at times he was sure he caught her looking crestfallen despite an array of technologically advanced machinery around her. It wrenched him internally, but he had to remain firm.

He glanced over at her now, engrossed in the inside workings of the control panel. She was adapting elements of the Horde computer to fit this particular model of Etherian ship. Her problem here he could see was editing; they were currently building a single pilot mode of transport for stealth missions and she was attempting to fit an entire base stations worth of hardware into the panel, despite their detailed designs showing that it was both impossible and unnecessary. He felt himself chuckle and she glanced up from her work, a small smile growing on her face. 

“I know, I know,” she said sighing, “but it’s just so _tempting_! If I could just get it to fit then this craft alone could out-perform any other ship in our fleet! You just wouldn’t need them! Imagine, you could visit other worlds, observing without notice due to its size, constantly scanning and the capacity for its data is almost limitless!”

She paused hair coiling around the machinery surrounding her.

“I just need it to fit,” she grinned. 

He approached, somewhat hesitantly and examined her work.

“But it is not the intended purpose of this craft. We have to keep in mind the goals of the rebellion and not be distracted by the possibilities. You will have time, after the war, I am sure, to experiment with this further.”

She looked up at him from where she was crouched and he was suddenly very conscious of her proximity.

“You’re right, but… We’re allowed to take a break! How would you approach the problem?”

His mind whirred, tackling the different possibilities before he stopped himself. This was beyond the task they had been set. 

“I would work on problems the current task poses.”

He turned away but not before he witnessed a shadow of sadness pass over her face. He hated that he had caused it, but as he settled back to work on the engine he reassured himself. This was for the best. He could not encourage anything beyond their current assignment, it was for the best. He had to keep telling himself that.

“You’re right!” she said, her voice bright once more, “if our focus is too broad, nothing will be achieved.”

He chanced a glance over at her again but her mask was down. 

He comforted himself with the knowledge that he had done the right thing. After the war Entrapta would be unlimited in her research and experimentation. She could incorporate her data, gained from the programmes he knew that she had secretly installed in each ship, to bring Etheria to glory in the field of science. Or to simply improve her own research. The choice was hers. Hopefully he’d be allowed to read her findings in his cell. His name would not be linked with hers and she would soar. 

Going back to their separate tasks there was silence until Entrapta restarted her running commentary into her recorder. He forced himself not to look at her any more than necessary but he could not help but feel a certain pleasure at her closeness. He tried unsuccessfully to push it away.

Hordak gasped fighting through the white fog and opened his eyes to take in the familiar shape of his cell. His heart pounded and he quelled the whimper that was about to sneak from his lips. He calmed himself with the thought that it wasn’t real. No one had been affected. A dream. 

Unwilling and unable to sleep further he rose from his bunk, stretching away the stiffness in his back and took his place at the table. He had been working alone on some improvements to one of Entrapta’s ideas for their current ship. He hoped that it would please her. He pictured her face as she looked it over, she’d likely find the flaws in it quickly but that was what a lab partner was for.

Besides she loved new ideas and theories, loved to discuss them. He loved watching her do so.

He stopped himself. If he did not keep himself in check then the pain that awaited him at the end of their work would be immense. He would be alone in his cell once more while she went off to be brilliant elsewhere. The way it should be. At least no one else would be harmed. 

He had caught himself, and now paused in his work, thinking.

His inability to keep her from his mind made him realise that she was now one of his many weaknesses. This was a weakness he did not mind, for once. 

A first.

The idea that she might feel the same was laughable but even so, he must protect her from that, for her own sake. 

But perhaps… Perhaps he could allow himself that. Privately of course. The pain would be inevitable, he knew that now. He was used to it. He knew he’d endure. 

They didn’t have forever, after all.

He resolved to allow himself to enjoy her company while he could, it wasn’t as though he had a choice in that. The little bubble of joy that appeared in her presence refused to sink. The anticipation that built in him through the night, longing for morning when she would appear at his cell door, would not fade no matter how hard he pushed it away. As long as he did not allow it to affect her then he would permit himself this… Only this. He could no longer fight it.

He could enjoy her company, within the parameters of their work. His joy he would have to keep from her notice. He must discourage anything beyond the project and once they had completed it he could wish her well with a clear conscious. 

Well, a conscious clear from the time he first entered the cell.

It pained him immensely to see her hurt, especially on his account. He loathed that he must be cold towards her when all she brought him was joy. But it was for the best. He could keep the full extent of it from her notice. She’d leave soon and would be able to forget him, move on. Any emotional hurt now would be temporary. This worthless criminal would be but a small blight in her memory. It was far better than the alternative.

It could be his last little piece of joy. Bittersweet. His first gift to himself. 

He resigned himself to it.

Hordak hissed with frustration and pain as he dropped the sheet of metal he had been carrying. It clattered to the floor with a ringing crash. Entrapta was by his side at once, sweeping across the room using her long hair as legs.

“Are you okay?” she asked, frantically.

He bit down his anger at himself and forced his words to come out calmly.

“I am. I… lost my grip.”

He half turned away to flex his sore muscles. He had overdone it, he knew, but his limits frustrated him and he found himself frequently pushing them. He loathed that Entrapta often had to help him with heavier objects. 

“Is it your support system? I can look over it if you like?”

“No! No… It works. I just forget it does not allow me the capacities your previous model.”

She frowned then glanced at the door before looking back at him. 

“I could… Adjust this one a little. Not too much, Glimmer was _very_ clear on that. But… As long as you don’t lift anything too heavy in front of her then she’ll never know the difference!”

He thought carefully for a moment. It was not strictly within the confines of their project but increased strength would benefit it. The current situation was a perfect example. Also… He did not enjoy appearing so flimsy in front of her. He was not as horrified as he would be in front of Glimmer or one of the other Princesses for example but the feeling was nonetheless unpleasant. 

“Perhaps… It would be beneficial for our project.”

He swore angrily at himself. She did not need the distraction, not from him, not when her work was so important-

“I agree,” she smiled. “Now sit down,” she commanded, leaping away and snatching his chair from the cell. She pushed him into it forcing him down with her hair, then set about gathering her tools. 

“You need to lower your robe, if that’s okay..? I can’t access the device otherwise. I designed it so that all of the processing goes on in either the front or back panel as opposed to all over like your old armour. Of course there’s less support for your limbs that way but I should be able to boost the power going to your ports so you should feel a little increased strength and comfort. I’d build you extensions to your arms but I think Glimmer would notice that…”

Her chatter was comforting as he lowered his robe, allowing it to pool at his waist. He did not feel as on display as he had with the others; her demeanour was calming as she focused on the science, not on his wasted muscles and skin discolouration. His ports to her were not hideous blights on his flesh but a fascinating technological puzzle. She had made that clear when she had first examined him in the Fright Zone, and the memory was something of a comfort now. 

She lowered his face level with his chest and he tried not to flinch away. She unscrewed the metal covering for the panel and began tinkering inside. The tool set lying beside her was tiny, far too small for anything they were currently working upon, she had even removed her gloves for ease of manipulation. She often brought unnecessary items into the prison each day because ‘you never know when you might face a problem that requires it!’ but the only thing this set could possibly service was his support system. He supposed she had just been proven right to be overly prepared.

You never did know. 

“You need to tell me if you feel any discomfort, since the tech is so inset to your organic body any adjustments I make could trigger a pain response.”

She glanced up at him, their eyes meeting. She looked away immediately. His stomach clenched.

Her breath tickled his bare skin and he tried not to let the thought linger. 

“I will inform you.” 

The words sounded strangled. He’d have to rectify that.

As she tinkered around inside of the panel he occasionally felt small electrical pulses emitting from his ports. The sensation was not unpleasant but almost ticklish. He twitched involuntarily. 

“I’m sorry!” Entrapta cried, pulling back, “did I hurt you?”

Her hand had moved from the panel and was now cupping the bare flesh of his ribs. It was warm and soft. He let in a sharp intake of breath and looked down at it. It appeared so alive in comparison to his own sickly blue and white.

“You did not hurt me. It… tickled.” 

“It tickled?” she asked suddenly delighted, “faaaacinating, I’d give anything to know how it feels to have inorganic elements work in tandem with the organic elements of my body.”

Once, he would have scoffed, maybe have been affronted by the idea that technology compensating for a weakness of the body was something to be desired. Now, he smiled. 

“Remove a limb and find out, you have the capacity to make another.”

“The notion is intriguing, however the intentional loss of limb is counter productive to my biological instincts,” she paused for a moment, thinking, “also it would be difficult to manufacture a working mechanical appendage after sustaining such a medical trauma.”

She paused again and he could almost hear the thoughts whirling.

“But afterwards… a mechanical limb would be far superior to a working organic one! I could circumnavigate the situation by manufacturing some in advance.”

“A worthy notion,” said Hordak, smiling indulgently despite himself.

Inwardly he cursed himself. He had promised himself and he was already going too far.

Her hand remained on his ribs and he glanced down at it again. Entrapta noticed this time, following his gaze.

“Oh I’m sorry!” She said, removing it.

He watched it leave its place on his chest with regret. His ears lowered.

Hordak paced his cell. He test lifted the cabinet then swung it up easily into the air. The weight was no issue, his muscles barely strained. He replaced it delicately then growled to himself.

She so frequently outdid herself with him. Was there no end to the pleasant surprise?

His eyes fell upon his uneaten meal tray. The only real physical changing presence in his cell. 

He thought for a moment before sitting at the table and began crafting. Against his rules? Perhaps… But it would only be polite. That was all...

Entrapta was bending over a huge twisted pile of wires. She was chewing her lip in that unmistakeable sign of dissatisfaction at the way her work was progressing. He cleared his throat. She did not respond.

“Entrapta?” Hordak asked delicately.

She turned, still frowning at the puzzle the wiring was presenting in her mind. Her gaze focused on him eventually and a slight smile played about her lips.

“Yes Hordak?”

He tried to suppress the pleasure the sound of his name on her lips made him feel. This was purely a reciprocal gesture after all. He tried to calm his nerves. 

“I made you some nourishment… As a gesture of gratitude for improving my functioning capacity. I do not have many resources at my disposal but… I understand that it is customary here to thank someone with a token… So… Here.”

He presented her with a tray. Upon it were several tiny potato and pea patties. He had no idea what food she actually enjoyed since their diet in the Fright Zone was mostly ration bars (cut to tiny size for Entrapta). But he had hypothesised that she would enjoy peas due to their measurements in comparison to other vegetables. The potatoes were simply craftable. 

She raised herself up on her hair to examine the tray and quivered with delight, her hair fluffing slightly at the ends. 

“Ohhhh they’re _adorable!_ ”

She plucked a pattie from the pile and popped it into her mouth. 

“It’s so cute! And it tastes wonderful!”

Her hair picked up another couple from the tray as she turned back to her wiring, placing them into her mouth as she worked. She glanced back at him, and blushed slightly.

“You’re correct, it’s an excellent custom to adopt… Thank you.”

He bowed slightly before he could stop himself.

“I- You’re welcome.”

He seated himself by his own section of the dissembled inner workings of a to-be battleship, oil dripping onto his knees and smiled. Tonight, he knew, he’d have the displeasure of reliving this moment to a hundred catastrophic ends, but for once, he had the pleasure of living the pleasant parts in reality. He let out a satisfied hum. He assumed it was inaudible as at that moment Entrapta let out a yelp as she received yet another electrical shock. He went to her assistance.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Distressing images ahead.

“So in summation the fleet is coming along remarkably in comparison to… Actually there is no Etherian data on the construction of intergalactic battle fleets. My project is a pioneer in its field! And by my calculations that is the 107th time I’ve made that proclamation. When we make contact with other civilisations I will be able to adjust that number, ohhhh I can’t wait to share data!”

“Day 64 of Hordak observation…

Nothing new to report. Hordak remains uninfluenced by anything other than the space project on which he is incredibly focused despite my efforts to the contrary. I’m beginning to think that perhaps I… May have been mistaken in both my projections and my initial _and_ my adjusted hypothesis. 

I remain hopeful but...

...

It would appear that this project is of indeterminable length... or a failure. Under regular circumstances I relish the challenge that a protracted experiment presents however time is not an unlimited factor right now. I just really hope this one is not a failure.

…

I miss him. 

...

Further experimentation required.” 

The fog guided the body across a battlefield. No matter, it had witnessed many before. As the dust settled it turned away and led the body to its private quarters. Usually it was here or before it relented, allowing the body some settlement, but it prevailed. The body, not quite alone, rested, the fog, ever present. The body rose, cleaned, dressed. These moments supervised. 

The body passed its daily preset duties; guard, relinquish, cleaning, relinquish, guard again. Brothers passed, bowing dutifully, adoringly. The body retired once more. Cleansing. In the reflection the bodies strong green eyes glowed back as it combed back its hair. Perfection is Prime. 

Hordak awoke, shaking. He blinked back the tears that pooled in the creases of his eyes. His habit of awaking with a yell held back behind his lips had long since faded. Now he was just tired. He turned in his bunk pulling his blanket tightly around him. At some point in the night he had lain neatly on his back, his sleeping body obedient to the Lord in his head. He was just so tired of fighting him.

No. He was awake now. In control, perhaps. Now he could cast off the shadows of the night…

He rolled out of his bunk and flinched backwards at the sight of the body on the floor. Cold poured through his veins striking his heart to a stop.

“No, no Entrapta, no. I’m sorry… No. _Please_.”

He scrambled to her side, knees crashing to the floor with a jolt but he didn’t care. He pulled her to him, cradling her tightly to chest. Her body was so small in his arms. He let out a low moan. Her hair, unmoving spread across the floor around them. As he shook her head lolled backwards. Gone.

Her glowing green eyes turned to his.

“Well _done_ , Little Brother.”

His eyes shot open and he clasped his hands tightly to his face, clawing his way from the remnants of the dream. Tears trickled down his neck, cutting their damp little pathway on the journey to his pillow.

He turned pressing his face into the pillow and bit into it, hauling back the scream of pain. His throat protested, choking on a lump that felt like lead. His claws cut into the fabric.

“Not real, not real, not real, not real...”

When would it end?

Hordak muddled through the day. There had been a set back, he was required to recalculate some of their initial work. He frowned over the data pad, inputting numbers, forcing his mind to comply. Not to stray. The chair beneath him was solid, he focused on that. The grey walls of the cell loomed around him, providing a comfort; they were crisp and clear, no fog. No fog. No distractions. He mentally shook himself, a habit he was now unfortunately much accustomed to.

The calculations for the short range teleportation had proven to be unsuitable. It was simply a case of readjustment and…

A hand grabbed his own out of nowhere. 

He looked up in surprise to see Entrapta standing over him, frowning at the data pad in his free hand before moving her focus to him. He’d been so distracted that he hadn’t heard her approach.

“You’re supposed to divide there,” she pointed out.

He removed his gaze from hers with difficulty and focused on the numbers before him, realising his mistake.

“You are correct, I apologise.”

He pulled his hand away, trying not to let the colour rise to his cheeks as his ears lowered. He still felt her presence over his shoulder. He began to correct his mistake.

“Are you okay? Comparatively to your normal demeanour you seem...” She paused searching for the correct word. “Tense. I feel compelled to ask.”

He froze, berating himself. He needed to be in more control than this. For them both. He should not be inviting this kind of distraction into her life. That she had to work so closely with him every day, in danger, and now he could not even navigate simple mathematics. Pathetic. 

“Of course,” he snapped, withdrawing to the side, regretting it instantly before continuing more gently, “my mind momentarily wandered, a foolish mistake. It will not happen again.”

She drew back slightly but didn’t move away. If only she would. This all would be so much easier. 

“You’ve been distracted all day… More so than usual.” Reaching over supported by her hair she leaned around to view his face. “You seem... upset?”

She looked hesitant as if assessing her conclusion. 

How could he respond to that? She was correct in her assumptions of course, as always. 

“It is nothing, I assure you,” he responded. 

Hordak turned to face her, hoping to reiterate his point. The moment his eyes met hers he felt himself flounder. It was as if she were scanning him, able to read him as easily she did lines of code. 

How was it she always could? He had tried so hard...

“I am fine,” he said more firmly, noting his voice had involuntarily added its usual growl. He had promised himself he would not do that around her any more. His stomach fell in a pit of shame. 

She frowned but the look was not one of hurt but of stubborn persistence. Why couldn’t this be easier..? He did not have the strength. Not any more.

“No, you’re not. You have made around 20% more errors than usual, and you’re displaying several physical signifiers of distress and now, several of avoidance. Tell me.”

The last words were firm. Though she did not move he almost felt the tendrils of her hair pressing into him. Her eyes were… pleading.

It was just one bad day. He’d be fine tomorrow if she’d just let him… Just a bad day. He was just so tired.

Unless...

He hesitated, mouth open. The burden would be easier to share but as he breathed the warm metal of his support unit pressed his chest. He remembered himself. Remembered what he was. What he amounted to. He stared at his hands... remembered what they were capable of. 

Besides, he had promised himself so that she could have a future. He winced as he remembered his dream. Any future.

“There is nothing… I’m a little tired is all.” It was true but he hated the avoidance, even though it was necessary. 

Her pinkish eyes bore into him, unflinching despite his reciprocated gaze. It must have cost her a lot, to regard him in this way, unmasked. 

“Hordak… I know that it’s… hard to talk about things that are bothering you, but sometimes it helps to talk to a friend. Like when we have a problem with our calculations, we talk it over and work it out together….”

His throat constricted.

“Please?” 

She asked the question gently, reaching forward and taking his large clawed hands within her own.

Did she not realise the danger of those hands?

She had removed her gloves to type more accurately into her data pad and her bare flesh was soft and warm around the calluses that puckered the surface. A tiny imperfection in her skin. His eyes fell upon their entwined fingers. His breath felt tight in his throat but he focused on the hands.

This… prolonged physical contact. 

He tensed, hating himself, but she always drew him in despite his best efforts. As if she had a gravitational pull, affecting only him. Could he? Just this once? 

“It was a… dream that was bothering me. Usually I do not sleep long enough to have them but here, and in my… weakened state, I do. I am just unused to them, it is no matter.”

“What was it about?” 

The whisper was soft but he tensed as if it was a blow nonetheless.

“It does not matter.” 

That sharpness. Again. She did not deserve this. 

“Hordak, I’m your friend, and no one else can hear if that’s what you’re worried about… And… I want to know. I... Care about you.”

Hordak waited a long time, expecting at every moment she would withdraw her hand in frustration, get on with the project or… Leave. He stared at those hands on top of his own but they didn’t move.

She... wouldn’t move. 

It was the most physical contact he had had… Ever. In all his memory. Unless it was hurt, but this… wasn’t hurt, there was no pain, there was no fog. She moved her thumb a little, rubbing it in slow circles across his knuckles. It felt like comfort. Whatever that word had truly meant, he now knew the definition in his bones, even. 

He did not deserve this.

He closed his eyes before hot tears would spill forth, forcing them back. 

A chance. If she was repelled, well, she’d be better off. He hoped she was. If not… It might feel nice, like this did. He was weak.

His body trembled, against his words, against his memories… his creatures, his creations. He tried to push them from him.

He was just so tired… Tired of it all, tired of fighting. Fighting to stay in control, every day. Every moment. 

He parted his lips.

“That is what I dream about, some other entity, hearing. Him. Lord Prime. That he listens even beyond his demise. It’s always the same. That he is in me, controlling my every move, hearing me, my every thought. Controlling me. Making me… Do things. He always presides.”

It was out. He could not return it. If this pitiful admission would not repel her then nothing would.

Hordak regretted it immediately. He tensed for her reaction. If only he could take it back. His moment of weakness. He had promised it wouldn’t fall upon her. It was his burden to bear. It was-

“He’s dead, he can’t get you any more, you’re safe.”

She had not let go. She had his hands still within hers. She was still there. His chest bubbled out. Why couldn’t he stop himself? He had promised...

“I know”, he gasped, “but what if he is not, or if he is, what if there’s still some programming in me, physical or mental that can bend my will to his?”

The tears fell forth, he couldn’t help it. They collected on the table before him. The hands were still there, barely in focus. 

He tremored. Now that it had started he couldn’t stop. Why didn’t she just withdraw? His throat clenched trying to stop the out pour in vain. 

“That one day that voice will be back and I’ll do something heinous, or that I already am without realising it. Even that this is an illusion. I cannot fight him any more Entrapta, I am too weak. I always was. For years I tried to conquer this planet in his name even after he sent me to die. I knew he did not want me but I still needed him. That is how weak I am.” 

He didn’t dare look into her face, as he cried. He didn’t want to see the disgust, or pity there. 

“I am sorry, you may go, we can work on this separately.” His voice choked as he turned away from those eyes. Those eyes that could scan his very soul. Her eyes.

Now she would go. This was it, the end he had anticipated. He knew it was coming. It had to come sooner or later. He had bared his pathetic weak soul. A warlord, seeking pity. A criminal. Nothing.

He tensed for her exit. For the best. For Etheria’s best even. For-

Her arms slipped around his torso, then her hair, it twined over every limb and round again, around his torso, his chest even. Holding just _him_ close to her body. It enveloped him. Purple fluff blinded his vision. Her breath was soft in his ear. 

He tensed. Any moment this was the last. She was kind. Her last gift to him, a goodbye…

But she stayed, holding him in place. She… wasn’t leaving. 

Without a warning from his mind his body settled into hers, crumpling, finding gaps that fit perfectly with his own. 

He felt the tendrils of her hair wrap more purposefully around him. As if they were protecting something.

It was him, he realised.

He stayed there within that purple cocoon as he wept, shuddering into that warm immovable body.

She felt safe. For the first time in his life he felt himself relax. 

Her words came, muffled into the top of his head.

“He’s gone. He can’t get you. There is nothing in you that he can control any more. And even if there was, I wont let him! I’ve already lost you once. That won’t happen again.”

He shuddered in her embrace.

“And you’re not weak. You stood up to him when it mattered most. You are Hordak, and you are strong... Remember..?”

He whimpered into her arm.

“But… But what if I _hurt_ you? What if I..?” He let the question hang, the terrified thought slipping over his lips… She was so close what if he did?

Her face nuzzled into the top of his head.

“You wont. You had your chance to. You _chose_ not to. You could _never_ hurt me.” 

He gasped. A fresh wave of sobs shuddered through his body. But still...

“But I’m so weak, Entrapta, everything I’ve ever done is for him.”

The reply that came back was firm. Solid as if drawn from all the data in the universe.

“You’re strong because you’ve had the hardest, longest battle of any of us, and yours is still happening. You’re strong because you haven’t given up yet.”

Hordak felt his arms move, slipping around her waist holding her tightly. He could not let go, he didn’t even try to this time. He wept.


	11. Chapter 11

A friend. A _friend_. The feeling was delicious. He had bared his soul and she had not fled. The thrill rushed through his veins and he did not want to stop it. He had fought so hard to deny this and why? For what end? Entrapta had smashed through his conclusions with ease and certainty. 

She had gone eventually, of course. That was inevitable. But for once, he knew she would come back. She was his friend and she would come back. He paced his cell, his blood too hot to sit.

His problems were not gone. He was not fool enough to believe that for a second. In fact already the thick fog was awaiting him on the edge of his consciousness. His physical body protested his unrelenting pacing. However he already felt lighter. He had admitted something to her and she had not rejected him, she had not laughed or derided him. The opposite. 

Of course some of her conclusions were mistaken but he had never felt so… Supported. He thought that might be the word. He had always taken orders. That was his prerogative. Even in his wildest doubts he had always had the word of Prime to guide him. But in the midst of his thrashing discomfort, when he was left cold and alone, cast out… There had not been anyone, not the support of his brothers, no word from Prime. 

But now, with the resounding racking guilt that threatened to abolish him, with the silence that went hand in hand with his crimes, he shouldn’t have anyone, but there was that one lone voice. That said he didn’t have to be alone. That she wouldn’t let him be alone. 

She had faith in him.

No one had ever had faith in him before. Even in his Horde army, the Force Captains and soldiers had followed him out of fear and threat. Never because they believed in him. Yet here it was. She believed in him and the thought made him feel strong. Almost as if… he could keep going.

How could he repay her?

This gift was too much but… Maybe he could be the same to her. Maybe that’s what friendship was. Whatever she needed, he could give this back. This support. This… faith.

He could not go on as things were. No matter how much it would hurt in the end she had given him something that he could not ever repay. He could no longer pretend that he did not care for her. Not after she had given him so much. He’d happily hurt a thousand lifetimes over. When she left he could be glad that he had been, to her, a good friend. 

Hordak threw himself into their work. He didn’t even realise that he had been so resistant until he wasn’t. When he wasn’t sleeping or resting, he worked. When Entrapta arrived at his cell door he commenced the days tasks with joy.

He drafted up battle plans for the Etherian fleets, he compiled a training manual for the soldiers, knowing their experience was purely that of wars on the surface. These poor beings knew not awaited them up there. He wrote detailed guides on how to pilot the crafts he was building with Entrapta. Even a simple, step-by-step trouble shooting guide. He designed drones to send forth should the war end up in too much bloodshed. 

For Etheria he could be of use. If one bot could be destroyed in the place of an Etherian then he would not be placated. If none would die because of his battle plans and replacements then his intention would be fulfilled. A bold aim, but one he could work towards.

Entrapta was initially surprised by his gusto for the work but dutifully passed on his documents to Glimmer. 

She read them over with a furrowed brow, her purple hair coiling around her.

“Are you sure this will work? Surely if we increased the speed or fire power of the crafts then this would be rendered unnecessary...”

“And in the event of hand to hand combat on a planets surface?” he responded. “It is vital to have comprehensive training for all eventualities.”

She looked up and smiled at him. 

“You’re right! A good scientist is prepared for any and all conclusions! An even better one defers to the expertise of another. In this case you and war.”

He winced slightly.

“We must prepare for it.”

She sighed.

“We have to fight for this,” he said quietly.

“I know,” she answered in a low voice.

“For Etheria. For freedom.”

She took his hand and held on tightly, turning her smile on him. 

He didn’t need anything else. This sense that his work was for _good_ , his mind and efforts for justice, the betterment of the universe. He was wary of his sureness, those doubts still tugged at the edges of his mind, but he had seen it; Horde Prime was far from his current actions, this was all him. And... with this little Princess holding his hand, well, that made him very sure.

It helped. For once he was willing to run with it.

The days progressed innumerably, as did their work. He did not like to keep count. There was not much point in this windowless cell. Each day they worked upon and eventually turfed out prototypes to be built by a wider workforce. He had tried to quiz Entrapta on them but she appeared unimpressed by the new league of technicians building in conjunction with the Etherian Makers Guild. Since she had struggled to work with them from very early on, Hordak had suggested they write up an instruction manual on construction, once the prototypes had been completed and tested. 

He hadn’t relished the release of control of their project but it was necessary. He hoped that Glimmer had selected the best fits.

Entrapta had hated it, wanting to build minutely each vessel to completion but the time frame presented was not practical. He knew it pained her. He suspected that she kept each prototype, once it had been replicated, in her own inventory. 

He could not help but detect a note of sadness in his lab partner as they progressed. It could not possibly be down to failure, he mused, as each design and craft they produced was met with apparent success. Or so he heard. Her sadness began to worry him.

“It is done,” grinned Hordak gleefully. This was his personal favourite, a craft he had been longing to build since its conception. It was the main base for the rebellion. They had been building it it painfully small parts for the past weeks and now the last piece was constructed, ready for insertion. It was the only craft that was not to be replicated outside of his prison cell. 

He looked around for his lab partner to share this joy. His smile died on his face.

“Entrapta, what is wrong? Are you okay?”

“Yes of course! The ship is complete! I’m thinking of a name.”

“Then why are you sad? The work is progressing phenomenally.”

She pulled down her mask and his stomach sunk.

“That’s just it.”

He didn’t trust himself to think as he gently stepped up beside the Princess to regard their work.

“What do you mean?”

“You’ve thought of everything,” she said softly, “The base station is nearly ready, the crafts, communications are up with the rebels, they have maps, weapons, trained troops, plans, power… Everything.”

“Then… What is the problem?” 

“Everything’s done. I’ll have to go soon.”

She turned to him, her red masked eyes glowing. 

“Unless… I say it’s not ready.”

Her voice sounded unconvinced, soft.

Hordak felt that all too familiar grief rise in his chest. She had suggested this once before and he had been all to ready to accept in full blooded gladness. And he had, allowing the experiment, and the following events to run on. Then- it had been strewn with unclear feelings. But now, now he knew. It hurt. He had accepted her proposal then, but he couldn’t now. He was selfish then, and he couldn’t be now. For better reasons. The difference was, he realised with some semblance of acceptance, for a planet. For Etheria. 

He looked down at the tiny Princess, the brilliant scientist, his friend… 

“No,” he growled, “I know you long for the stars, Entrapta. I cannot hold you here. And to stall? No, there are many out there still fighting the Horde, what’s left of it. How can I deny them the chance for freedom now that I have mine? Those that still must cower on a rock face when there is so much more? The universe is out there for those that can deliver it to them, and you have the power to do that Entrapta, we cannot deny them this. Besides. Think of all that data.”

His heart felt heavy at the idea of letting her go, letting her go into danger. But this was bigger than either of them. He understood that. 

Even from his cell he knew their tasks were coming to a close. The final adjustments. The correct material for space suits. No more building passed through his cell. But still she came each day. 

Until the one day she entered the corridor-lab without her usual zest. 

It was their last project, he didn’t need her to tell him that. 

They slowly discussed numbers, the pace of the last few months in almost reverse. 

His eyes lingered on her face as she entered the last redundant number into her data pad. There was no more reason to come back.

She sighed, her shoulders slumping.

“Congratulations, Entrapta.”

He said it without sarcasm or derision. He was proud of her. He did not even bother to steel himself for what was to come. He was just happy to have had these months.

He regarded her. He was so proud of his friend and what she had achieved. She was sad now but she’d be happy soon. It would not be for him to witness but it gave him some joy to know it would come. He smiled, truly, baring his red teeth. She’d be _brilliant_ out there.

Entrapta stared for a long while into the data pad. The calculations already completed and checked over. He could tell she was thinking hard and remained silent. He was a little concerned, usually her deliberations were extremely audible. Finally, she spoke. She sounded tentative. 

“I’ve been running a side experiment, well, observations really.”

Hordak was taken aback. She had not mentioned this. He tried to work out what it could be. He pushed away the doubts and fear. They had no place now.

“Oh? And on what?”

Her head stayed bowed. Her voice was tiny.

“On whether you love me as I love you. My results have been inconclusive and now I’m out of time, and I couldn’t go without… Checking. So I have only one option- to ask the subject.”

Hordak was stunned. His mouth opened with shock. All he could feel was his heart pounding across his veins sending a pulsing rhythm up to his ears. She-

Then the thoughts began to creep in, his creatures prowled. This blazing star did not need his vacuum of a black hole absorbing her light. Let her go. So she could be free.

“You love me?” 

Why wouldn’t his voice obey his will?

What was his will?

She turned slowly, finally, and looked at him. Her eyes were hesitant.

“I do. You’re the best friend I’ve ever had, you’re the only one who understands me or has even tried to. And you’ve never tricked me or lied to me when it really matters. Which is why I trust whatever you say next is the truth. I trust you Hordak.”

She lowered her eyes, so unsure for once. 

He stared at her stunned.

He couldn’t lie. 

“But you could do so much better. I am weak, imprisoned, an enemy of Etheria. Your reputation will be dragged through the mud by associating with me. I have done so much wrong and have nothing to offer you. What could you possibly get out of this?”

“You didn’t say no,” she said, a slight smile flickering on her lips, but her hair twitched at the edge of her mask.

His eyes followed that smile, longing to chase it, to banish her insecurities.

“You did not consider my words.”

“I have. I’ve considered all the available possibilities and I know that you’re what I want. You Hordak.”

His heart pounded.

His brain protested.

He had to be strong, and strong meant... But now he knew, thanks to her, that being strong was not hiding himself behind a self imposed barrier, denying himself everything good out of fear and self-loathing. It was sharing those insecurities and… trusting in another to accept all that, as she always had with him.

It was time, at last, to try.

He lent slowly towards her, placing a gentle claw beneath her chin drawing her face to his, marvelling at it. He tentatively allowed his lips to fall on hers. 

Her smile twitched against his lips.

“I do love you,” he mumbled into them.

“What?” she asked, drawing back slightly, grinning.

“I love you, Entrapta,” he replied firmly, loudly, he didn’t care who heard. “Of course you are right. You always are.”

He felt himself drawn forward as her hair pulled him closer towards her body. She nuzzled into his chest, clutching him.

Why couldn’t he stop grinning like a fool?

***

“I’d like to engage with you, sexually.”

He broke off their embrace with surprise. His cell loomed around him, this time unpleasantly. His mind had been on better settings. 

She pushed him back gently, two purple tendrils at his chest, to regard him.

“Would you like that too?” Entrapta asked, she looked nervous, hair twisting round itself. “It’s just we don’t have a lot of time. Not any more and… I’d like to. A lot.”

He paused.

“Please do not mistake my hesitation for lack of desire,” he said, slowly, “I do, but I have no idea if I am sexually compatible with an Etherian. My biology may be a problem.”

Entrapta shrugged.

“There’s a lot of ways to be close. We can find a way that works for us.”

Her words thrilled him. A desire he hadn’t known he possessed had plagued him from the moment his lips met hers. A desire that brought with it more fears. But she loved him. She had said that. His heart knew it. 

“We can try.”

“Right! And if all fails, that just opens us up for experimentation!”

He couldn’t help but smile at her eagerness. He caught it with a kiss, surprised by his own boldness.

“Whatever happens, I love you,” he growled.

Entrapta smiled before bending forward and placing her lips on his. 

“So… Do you have some experience in this matter?” he asked, immediately cursing his bluntness. He knew enough of Etherians that they tended to hide their sexual activities.

“Not with organic lifeforms!” she replied eagerly, either not noticing or ignoring his hesitation. “If you like I have a file?”

He almost let out a yelp.

“That will not be necessary.”

“Okay, well if you change your mind, it has graphs!”

He should stop this but… how much more damage could he already do in one day?

She beamed at him and his smile slipped easily back onto his face. He wasn’t sure how he had had the ability to banish it for so long, to attempt it now would be an impossible feat.

Hordak hesitated, unsure of what to do next, so he followed his instincts and placed his hands hesitantly at her waist. 

“Is this wrong?” he asked, trying to discern from her reaction.

“No… That feels okay.”

She kissed him again, lingering over his mouth. He kept his hands where they were, unsure if further movement was required or even invited.

“Maybe we should lie down?” she asked, “statistically, most sexual interactions occur within the confines of a bed.”

They both glanced at his tiny bunk. He would have to ask her later where she gained this research.

“Okay, but will we be disturbed?”

“No,” said Entrapta firmly, “they’re not expecting these results until tomorrow. I said we’d work till it’s done.”

“Uncharacteristic foresight…” Hordak chuckled. His laugh caught nervously in his throat, he hoped she didn’t notice. 

Instead a small hand found his large one. She squeezed.

“Entrapta…” he said, hesitating, a thought striking him, “are we doing this because you want to, or because we’re out of time..?”

A shadow of sadness passed over her expression before she raised herself up on her hair, pressing herself flush to his body. Her eyes lingered on his lips.

“It’s both,” she said firmly, before shooting him a blazing smile. “Besides, I’ve waited a long time for these results.”

His stomach fluttered. How long..?

“Then our experiment awaits,” he gasped nervously.

She pulled him towards the bunk and pushed him gently onto it. Hordak lay down, and she joined him, he felt her burrow easily into his side. She kissed his cheek. That, if anything solidified him. That one chaste kiss. It bridged the gap between the others. He turned his face to hers and placed his lips on her own.

An experiment just for them. They had done a lot for others after all. 

She pulled his body closer to hers.

The bunk was narrow and her form was close.

They weren’t quite touching but he could feel the warmth coming from her skin, mingling with his own.

He was not entirely sure what she expected but he trusted her. He also… desired closeness. 

“I must take your lead in this experiment, Entrapta. My apologies.”

“That’s okay!” she replied brightly. “I think some nudity is required though.”

“...Nudity?” He had both expected and dreaded this from her first iteration of sexual contact.

“Don’t worry, I’ll go first and you only follow as much as you want to.”

Her hair slipped her dungarees down a little then pulled away her top. She allowed it to crumple on the floor behind her. 

“You can look,” she said, almost shyly.

Hordak lowered his eyes to regard her breasts. They were... breathtaking. He enjoyed their curved form, soft and round in sharp comparison to the harsh edges of machinery she preferred. 

“You can touch… If you want?”

He felt a tendril of purple hair wrap around his wrist. It guided his hand carefully up to her upper torso. He knew he could break free easily if he wanted to. This was a suggestion not a command. His hand settled on her breast.

“I usually enjoy the feeling of soft manipulation of them. However if you prefer not that’s okay.”

Her breath was soft and warm. It breezed across his face.

He moved his frozen hand on her warm breast. Tensing his fingers slightly he played a rough pattern across the surface as if working the controls of a keypad. 

It was supple. He felt a stiffening in the palm of his hand- her nipple. 

“You can play with that too… If you want.”

Her voice was even softer this time, a whispered edge to it, lids lowered, pupils wide as she watched him, studying his reaction. A soft smile piqued the corner of her mouth. 

He gently allowed his claws to caress the soft bud, careful not to let them cut, rubbing his finger across its surface.

Entrapta let out a gentle moan.

He removed his hand in shock. Staring at her face, scanning it for signs of distress.

“Did I hurt you?” he asked, voice filled with concern.

“The opposite. The feeling brings me pleasure.”

She blushed.

Pleasure. He had brought her pleasure. The fresh concept sat shakily in his mind. Slowly he placed his hand back and felt a warm sensation between his legs. 

He ignored it.

One hand on her breast he slowly massaged his fingers into the soft globe. He liked that it fit his hand perfectly. 

His mind was a blur. This had to be another dream only... No fog. No death. Just her, here beside him. Willingly.

He felt a pull to her lips and kissed her again. They were met with more force than he expected and he withdrew his fangs at once, hiding them behind his lips. He didn’t want to hurt her. 

She sighed softly.

“Am I hurting you? Please tell me!”

“No… Hordak. My involuntary noises are of pleasure. I’ll stop you if it hurts. Please continue.”

He hesitated then lowered his mouth to her breast.

She was stronger that he. If he hurt her he trusted she’d be able to resist. She would tell him. He trusted.

He kissed the soft flesh, his tongue pushing its way out of his mouth to lick the little bud.

That warm feeling was back between his legs.

He felt an involuntary growl pass his lips and was embarrassed. About to draw back he felt Entraptas hair coil around him, holding him in place. He wanted to move away but she was warm against him and the want died. He felt the thick casing surrounding his urethra grow. He yelped at the sudden sensation. It was hot and big.

He drew his hips back so that it wouldn’t touch her. 

“What’s wrong? Are you okay?” she asked quickly, her pink eyes darting over him.

“I have experienced some kind of adverse reaction. Perhaps to your presence perhaps it was something I ate. I do apologise. I must away to…. Reconcile myself...”

“Hordak wait...” she cried as he pulled himself way.

He tried not to panic as the tendrils of her hair prevented him, clutching at his arms.

“Let me see.”

He stared her in the eyes and saw no judgement there. Just the eyes of his friend, his friend who loved him. A chance.

He nodded.

Proceeding with his permission, she carefully slipped off her gloves and her soft hand gently trailed its way down his torso then cupped his fresh protuberance.

Her fingers grasped it gently working their way over it. He gasped when they reached its tip.

“Hordak… I believe this is a sexual trait… Especially based on the circumstances. A lot of Etherian males experience something similar.”

“How do you know?” he asked desperately, trying to ignore the new appendage in Entrapta’s hand with extreme difficulty.

“It is a fairly well documented branch of biology. The subject receives a surprising amount of attention in comparison to the rest of the field.”

“And you think this is linked?” 

“Well. The best way to know is by experimentation. Does it hurt, or does it feel nice when I touch it?”

Her cupped palm massaged the length.

He let out a surprised gasp.

“It is not… Unpleasant.”

She pulled her body closer to his, breasts pressing into his chest. She kept his new appendage in her hand however. 

“Then I believe it’s a sexual reaction.”

He felt his chest rise and fall.

“But if it’s not?”

“The body can react in different ways when experiencing sexual attraction. Sometimes it can be unsettling, sometimes pleasant. For example, your manipulation of my breast has caused me to lubricate internally.”

“Is that a good thing?”

“It happens when I pleasure myself. Though admittedly not as quickly. I believe my feelings towards you… helped somewhat.”

“Oh.”

“Would you like to feel? I don’t mind if it’s you.”

His panic was slowly abating under her firm words but the hot feeling was not. His stiffened appendage was unrelenting. 

He felt trepidation that Entrapta would allow him to feel her lubrication but her calm boldness settled him. He nodded his approval.

Entrapta caught hold of his hand and moved it between her legs. His fingers bumped against her flesh. 

“Explore, please,” she asked, lying back down onto the pillow, still facing him. She watched his face carefully.

He allowed his confused fingers to be guided to her midriff then still further. He felt her adjust herself slightly as she parted her legs, guiding his hand under her dungarees and under the thin piece of fabric that was her underwear.

His fingers were met with a surprising heat. His hand pressed against her soft skin there and he could feel various folds.

He caught a rubbing motion that her fingers guided him gently upon.

He carried it on, quickly picking up the rhythm.

He heard her gasp again. 

This time he didn’t stop, glancing into her eyes. She was so sure of him. 

He continued as instructed.

She moaned a little but he didn’t stop. This was from pleasure. He was still unsure but reminded himself of her previous assurances. He trusted that she would tell him otherwise.

“Hordak?” she gasped.

“Yes?”

“Can you? If its okay… Put your fingers inside?”

Realising with surprise that she had removed her hand from his he was momentarily lost. He hadn’t realised he had been without her as a guide for some time. Exploring the area carefully he found an orifice. He dipped a finger in slowly and to his surprise found it to be wet. This must be the lubrication that she had mentioned. He gently slipped his finger inside, carefully so that his claws would not cut her, ready to stop as soon as she gave the command. But she didn’t. The flesh was soft and silky. She adjusted a little beside him, slipping her remaining clothing from her body in order to part her legs further. She rested one leg on his hip and he could feel its warmth even through his robe. 

She guided his thumb over her folds until he felt a little nub.

“If you continue your previous movements here and mirror them inside then my body will be able to experience some sexual gratification. If that is alright with you? You can stop anytime you feel uncomfortable.” Her words came out softly and he felt her hips gently nudge into his hand.

He did feel uncomfortable, but the experience was not unpleasant, it was… exhilarating. The idea of stopping the progress of this experiment was far from his mind. Most of his focus was on the warmth that surrounded his finger. 

He began to move as instructed, replicating the movement she had demonstrated earlier, only this time he moved his finger inside too. He felt her relax a little and move herself closer to him, her hands resting on the point his neck and shoulder met. Her fingers traced patterns there of her own.

Hordak marvelled at her as he kept up the rhythm, he face inches from his, her eyes closed gently. Of all the beings in the universe this beautiful, brilliant creature had picked him. Had allowed him to share in this intimacy. Had picked him to be the object of her love and now, her desire. It confused him but he knew it to be true.

A soft gasp escaped her lips as he rounded the little bud with his thumb at the same time extending his finger deeper within her. Repeating the movement experimentally he noted it elicited the same pleasured response. He continued, each time venturing a little deeper with his finger. He noticed an increase in both the internal lubrication and her tiny gasps. 

He could penetrate deeper if he used his other finger too... Very gently he began to insert it, ready at any moment to withdraw, but the order did not come. He slid it fully into her and her eyes flew open.

“Is that okay?” he whispered.

In answer she leant forward closing the gap between them and drew him into a hard kiss, her tongue slipping into his mouth. Her arms wrapped around his neck and he felt her hair wrap around his body more tightly. A tiny growl escaped her throat. It must be okay, then.

He struck up his rhythm again, this time able to reach further and further into her core with each thrust. It was deliciously warm and wet. Occasionally his arm would brush up against his own sexual reaction causing him to ache for her in a way he couldn’t define. 

His rhythm continued and he tested increasing his speed incrementally. The response to this was positive too. He could feel her hips moving slightly to compliment his own movements. Her gasps spilled out between their kisses. 

He longed for this moment never to end as a soaring feeling rose in his chest. It had always thrilled him when he could impress her with some theory or invention but this surpassed everything else. 

But eventually she stopped him, gently tugging his hand away. She shuddered deliciously as he slipped out of her.

“I’d like to try something. For both our pleasure, if you would like?”

Her words were breathy and her cheeks had pinked slightly. 

“Entrapta I am enjoying this sexual contact immensely.”

“I believe there can be more...”

She lay back, and her hand explored beneath the covers till she found his torso. Running her hand slowly downwards she slipped her hand beneath his robe.

Pausing here, she asked, “Is it okay if I touch you again?”

Not trusting his words he nodded, heart pounding.

Her hand brushed against his newly engorged appendage before slipping her fingers delicately around it. He gasped as she pulled it slowly, the skin of her hand running against his own smooth flesh. 

“Instead of your fingers, you could try putting it in me.”

“I-I don’t know what you mean,” he gasped, his mind distracted by the movements of her hand.

“Stop me if you want...”

She let go of him and rolled on top until she was sitting legs either side of his waist, pushing him onto his back. The blanket slipped away revealing her body fully for the first time since the encounter had begun. He gasped and tried not to ogle her. She smiled shyly. 

“You are beautiful,” he said voice faltering.

“So are you,” she grinned, stroking his cheek gently, tenderly, before leaning forward and kissing him, her lips soft against his own. A distraction. He could feel her drawing up his robe so that it hitched around his waist. Her hands found his length again and he could feel her guiding it gently towards her. She adjusted her hips, holding herself a little above him. 

“Ready?” she asked. Her eyes were wide, searching his own. She bit her lip, teeth sinking a little into the skin, as if holding herself back from doing the same to him… He suppressed a tremor of desire, a carnal need growing inside of him. 

He nodded and reached a hand to cup her face, his dry one. She turned and kissed his palm before lowering herself slowly onto him.

He felt the tip meet some resistance as it found her entrance and she adjusted her hips until it met her internal lubrication. She slid a little further down and he noticed with concern a look of discomfort on her face.

“Are you alright? Have I hurt you?”

“No… Well, a little. It’s normal. Just allow me time to adjust.”

He held himself extremely still, terrified that the slightest twitch would cause her harm. Her trusted that Entrapta knew her own bodies limitations but since he was a novice in this newfound field he was careful not to do anything without her say so. 

Above him Entrapta let out a small sigh and sunk a little lower onto him. He could feel her wrapped around him almost drawing him into her heat. He suppressed the urge to thrust forward and instead ran his hands up her arms, eyes scouring her face for any look to suggest he should not. He continued, caressing her skin slowly till he reached her head, burying his fingers in her hair. 

Entrapta let herself sink the final few inches and gasped, her eyes locking onto his, widened with surprise and desire. He held her head very gently in his hands, his mouth slightly open as she joined it with her own. Her lips were hot and wet and the kiss she bestowed was hard. Her tongue slipped between her lips and flicked over his own, her teeth dragging over them. Then she began to move.

Her hips ground into his, gently at first, and he felt his length slip in and out of her. He felt a surge across his entire body and he knew there and then that this was the closest he had been to anybody, even those inside his mind. This was the void he had been longing to fill all of his life, not serving Prime, not conquering Etheria or even inventing. It was this closeness, with her, his love, but not only that, it was reciprocal. He now knew how it felt to love and be loved and he never wanted it to end. He did not care that their bodies were linked because they already were. They always had been, it had just taken him too long to understand that.

He let out a moan and sat up, pulling her close to him as he moved his hips in time with hers. Thrusting himself further and further into her, the friction sending tremors through him in wave after wave. Her arms looped around his shoulders as she smiled down at him, fingers brushing the skin at the top of his spine. 

“Entrapta,” he gasped, his voice filled with awe for the being in his arms, at what she was doing to him.

He flicked his tongue over her nipple and felt her tense around him as their thrusts intensified. All the energy and heat in his body focused on the point of their slick union as she sped up, gasping as she came down hard into his lap again and again. He paused, tearing off his robe and throwing it to the floor, all embarrassment and shame forgotten in the desire to feel her flesh on every inch of his own. Her chest pressed warmly into his, both slightly damp with sweat, only the device that she had made for him was between them. He buried his face in her, teeth scraping gently over her skin wanting to taste her too so that every sense was filled only with her. 

“Bite me,” she whispered and he complied without thinking, sinking his sharp fangs into her flesh, at the same time he felt her own teeth on his shoulder, pain shooting through his skin as she marked him, turning rapidly into a rush of endorphins. He pulled her down hard into his lap, plundering her interior with relish, guided not by his mind but by his body. He’d really have to stop doubting it so much. 

Her gasps came louder and louder as they moved together, faster and faster. His own breath hitched and his heart pounded. He could feel a build up of something around his hips. He desired a release but of what he had no idea. All he knew now was that he could not stop whatever was happening between them.

With each buck of her hips Entrapta tensed around him, drawing that feeling in his hips closer and closer to her core. She sped up and her fingers dug sharply into his back, clawing at his skin. Her hair was everywhere, grasping at various parts of his body and bracing them against the bunk.

“Hordak!” she gasped in his ear before letting out a high yelp and grinding down hard and rising on him again and again as he felt a rush coming from within him and up through his appendage. Her muscles tensed around him and he surged into her letting out a rough growl of his own, grasping her tightly to him as she crumpled against him. Both fell back into the bunk, twitching as his hips bucked into her several more times. 

Finally, they lay gasping, she clinging to his chest like a limpet, he holding her close as if his life depended on their embrace. 

Their breath roared in the others ear and their hearts pounded in unison in their pressed chests. 

They lay there for several minutes while their bodies adjusted. Hordak gradually felt himself come back into his mind. His hands were tingling and he felt himself twitch involuntarily every now and then. Eventually she shifted slightly and guided him out of her before falling beside him in the bunk. They remained in a tight embrace, her hair wrapped around both their bodies like a purple rope, linking them. 

***

He heard her breathing slowly settle into a low slow rhythm and to his surprise and delight realised that she had fallen asleep in his arms. Now that she was there he knew that that space would always be reserved for her. He would always be able to remember her there, the way her warm body felt nestled between his arms. The way her hair felt coiled around him, keeping him close and safe. 

He breathed in deeply, inhaling her scent and committing it to memory. He slipped a leg over her hips and felt their limbs tangle together. Every cell of his skin that touched her own tingled with content. 

“Whatever happens, I love you,” he whispered into her hair.

In her sleep she tightened her embrace around him, a soft mumble escaped her lips.

“Hordak...”

He laid awake, committing every moment to his memory. Tomorrow she would be gone, but he would remember this. The feeling of her wrapped around him. Her love. Her faith. In him.

If only he could go with her. To be at his place by her side. To protect her. 

He longed for the night to slow as he never had before.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you only came for the smut I’m very sorry it took 11 angsty chapters to reach it. 
> 
> If you skipped it, nothing plot-wise happened, but they both like each other very much.


	12. Chapter 12

6 years later.

Hordak opened his eyes and sat up in his bunk stretching. He stood and stretched further enjoying the feeling in his muscles, easing them into workable use, before ruffling his hair. It was time to get ready. He pottered around his cell, washing, dressing and gathering his things for the day. He slipped on his dark robe, tying it so that it cinched at his waist just-so. 

He made his bunk neatly and looked around his cell with pleasure. It was just the way he liked it, everything in its place. His walls were adorned with charts and diagrams, his filing cabinets neatly lined around the edges of the room labelled with small cards in his tidy handwriting. The table was the only slightly messy aspect, filled with small machinery and tools, something he had been working on before he had felt the urge for sleep. On top of his overflowing in tray lay his data pad.

He strode out of the open cell door into the corridor. Here were more desks and work surfaces. Half built machines lay scattered around. His pride and joy, a vastly equipped tool shelving unit stood in its place about halfway up the corridor. He smiled at it slightly on the way past, he had spent a very pleasant morning once organising and stocking it so that everything had its rightful place. He reached the metal door at the end of the corridor and tapped three times. It opened and the Brightmoon guard nodded to him and slid a small trolley over the threshold. 

“Thank you,” said Hordak and the guard nodded again, closing the door.

Hordak wheeled the trolley a little way back down the corridor, on it were four meal trays. He paused in front of one of the other cells before picking up the first of the trays and slid it through the slot in the bars.

“Traitor,” growled the voice from within. 

Hordak smiled grimly at the clone scowling at him, his green eyes burning with hatred. He too wore a dark prison robe, though his own was unkempt and hung in tatters from his body.

“Now, now,” Hordak replied, “I thought I made myself clear, the insults are getting a little dull. Perhaps a little exchange of small talk instead today?”

The clone spat. It hit one of the bars and slid slowly in a small glob.

“Perhaps not,” he muttered, moving onto the next cell. 

Here he was met with a stony silence. The clone did not move an inch from his place cross legged on the floor, back to the door. His cell was immaculate, the furniture untouched as a form of protest. He only ate in order to sustain himself for the inescapable return of Horde Prime. He had made himself clear on the subject on the first day and had not said a word to Hordak in the four years since, despite his efforts. He would only deign to speak with the other two incarcerated clones. The ‘true’ and ‘loyal’ Brothers.

At the third cell came a roar of anger and Hordak stepped neatly back as the clone within swiped at him through the bars. Every week or so he made an escape attempt like this. His focus seemed to be on bringing harm to Hordak though how this would assist in his release was beyond anyone’s guess.

Hordak could no more open the cell from the outside as he could from the inside; he was not the one with the keys.

Dodging the arm Hordak slipped the tray through the bars and was inundated with a string of Etherian swear words. At least the clone had learnt something in his time on the planet.

Hordak let him be, knowing he could not be placated when in this kind of mood and took his own tray to his cell, eating quickly while scanning his new messages on his data pad. 

Mid task a call buzzed on the data pad in his hand. Hordak tapped the button to receive the call. The face of an Etherian pilot filled the screen. He was wearing the simple white and purple uniform of the Space Force. Behind him Hordak recognised the interior of one of his own battle ship designs. As with all of his incoming communications, the little record symbol hovered in the corner. He idly wondered if anyone bothered watching them.

“Hi, you the techie?”

Hordak winced.

“...I am.”

“Huh. Surprised you’re a clone. But I guess you’d know this stuff.”

Hordak raised his brow, waiting.

“Well anyway… Glad I got you, I was told you may be able to help.”

“What is the problem?”

The transmission was a little patchy. He would have to ask for the computer in the signal tower to be brought in again so he could boost it. Clear transmissions were vital between the planet and those out in the field.

“The second gun keeps jamming. First is fine but I need both functioning for my own peace of mind.”

“Hmm. Can you open up the panel below the controls and show me?”

The pilot complied and Hordak examined the mess of wires and mechanics within. 

“The main power connection is loose. You need to rewire in a new jack and it should stay put.”

“Which… What? Hey I just fly this thing and all the engineers are busy at base.”

Hordak sighed to himself.

“Bodge job it must be… The red wire is loose. Press it in and hold it in place with some electrical tape. It should hold for a while but I’d recommend taking your craft in for repairs. If this one is at fault then other areas could be too. There is nothing I can do from here, unless you have time for me to take you through the rewiring step by step.”

The pilot shook his head and Hordak was unsurprised. It had long since stopped astounding him how unwilling Etherians were when it came to learning the basic necessary repairs of technology for their survival. They were far happier messing round with magic despite the necessity of the crafts that contained them.

The pilot didn’t acknowledge him further as he scuffled around in the panel. Hordak tapped his fingers on the desk impatiently.

“Hey… I think it worked! Thanks. Could you get on to my buddy in Abbie-231? Their team is having difficulty with their gravity simulator...”

Hordak winced a little, picturing the scene.

“Incoming calls only I am afraid. Tell them to call me and I will talk them through the repairs.”

“Will do. Out!”

The call ended. Hordak went back to his calculations, wondering how he was supposed to talk the crew of Abbie-231 through such a complicated fix remotely…

“...then you simply slot it into place within the engine. Make sure you bolt it down securely, if it slips and disconnects you will loose all power to your ship, including the life support systems. You should be well aware by now how inhospitable an environment space can be.”

Hordak stared seriously into the faces of his five rookie technicians. He had spent most of the afternoon demonstrating the correct ways to maintain, replace and install a power crystal into the engines of a variety of ships. Their glazed looks suggested his efforts had been in vain. He was worried. Each wave of trainees through his cell had been less and less competent than their predecessors. Ideally he would spend years training them so that they would be at some kind of capable level. In reality, with the scale of the war, he had months with each batch before they were sent off to work on building at the Etherian workshop or at the main intergalactic base station on repairs. From there the more promising ones became crew members or roving technicians on the front lines, able to deal with drastic repairs under pressure.

Hordak could not picture this current batch leaving Etheria, never mind progressing to such a level.

Despite all his training, maintenance and repair guides, reasonably talented technicians sent up and stationed out there, Hordak still received frequent calls regarding repairs at all hours of the day and night. He assumed the other highly skilled technicians like Bow and… others were similarly hounded. He did not mind, of course, though it was at times frustrating to instruct others through a repair via a video call when it would be so much easier in person. 

Still, he would do all he could, and currently that meant drilling as much knowledge into the five people in front of him of space technology as he could in as short a time as possible.

“Now, who would like to try it for themselves..?”

Hordak sat once again at his desk, the remains of his evening meal pushed to one side. His brow furrowed over a document in front of him. He was scribbling a few notes in the margin when the sound of the metal door clanging open down the other end of the corridor disturbed him from his train of thought.

“Rebel scum-” hissed a clone.

“Oh shut it,” snapped Queen Glimmer, cutting him off.

She appeared at the door of Hordak’s cell, barging in. In her hand was a bottle and two tumblers, one of which she slammed down on the table and sloshed a large measure of amber liquid into it before throwing herself down on his bunk, bottle still in hand. Propping herself against the wall she took a long swig from it. She made a face as it hit her throat.

“Glass please, my Queen, if we are sharing.”

Glimmer rolled her eyes but poured out some of the liquid into her own tumbler before setting the bottle onto the floor and easing back into the pillow with a groan.

“So what’s the update with the new techs?” she asked.

“They are progressing, but slowly. I really think a more formal educational setting would be beneficial. I don’t believe that Mirin has the capacity to organise his own learning outside of my demonstrations.”

“We don’t have anyone to teach them, we need all hands on deck for building really. I know it’s frustrating, but will you continue with them… please?”

He was taken aback.

“I was not implying that! Of course, I am more than happy to continue teaching them.”

“You’re the best, what else?”

“They have all mastered installing a power source, well, they demonstrated it satisfactorily within a controlled environment, but… This was all in my report, now come on, why did you really come down here?”

She stared at him long and hard, and for a second he thought he’d finally overstepped but she groaned and threw herself back into the pillow.

“It’s just so annoying! Every report they make is just all these cool adventures they’ve been having and I’m stuck here!” 

Hordak smiled to himself, settling in, sipping from his glass.

“You made the decision for the good of Etheria.”

“I know, I know. Defending the planet, breaking up clone insurrections. But they’re out there in the real fight.”

“My Queen, your powers would not work in space, your place-”

“Not helping, Hordak.”

“You made the right decision. The ‘real fight’ is wherever you are most needed. You know this.”

She sighed, staring at him desperately.

“But when they come back, they’ve got so much shared experience, what if I’m pushed out, what if it isn’t the same with me and Bow...”

“Constant battle and fear is no foundation on which to grow your relationship.”

“It seems to work for Catra and Adora.”

“They are… A special case. They both need to learn to relax. Their entire lives have been geared towards war, they need to unlearn that.”

“No thanks to you...”

Hordak went quiet and looked down, ears lowering, ashamed.

“I’m sorry Hordak, that was uncalled for.”

He met her eyes and she did indeed look apologetic.

“But it is true. I know that I am to blame. I hope to apologise to both of them at some point. And I hope my efforts here are of some reparation to them.”

“Traitor!” 

The incensed roar came echoing down the corridor.

Hordak winced, despite the familiarity of the sentiment.

Glimmer rolled her eyes and cast a spell towards the door, drawing a pattern almost lazily in the air before her. The sound drowned out at once. 

“I forgot. Now we can talk without rude interruptions or unfriendly ears.”

He nodded, still a little tense.

She stood and topped up their drinks. Hordak drank some quickly. It burned pleasantly in his throat, washing away some of his discomfort as the Queen slumped back down into his bunk.

“He will return and you will be able to enjoy each others company in a time of peace,” he said, continuing as if there had been no interruption. 

“But what if he’s changed?”

“And you have not? My Queen, you are both young, it is a time of great change, for all, but your connection is still strong. Are your conversations unpleasant?”

“No…”

“You just miss him. And he misses you. And you miss your friends. Opting to stay was a noble choice. I am sorry for your burden.”

“You always know just what to say,” she laughed.

“Just doing my part to serve Etheria.”

“Shut up!” she laughed again. “What about you anyway? We always talk about me.”

“Do I miss Bow? Well, our interactions were limited but he was a fine face to bring my meals on the odd occasion.” 

She threw a pillow at him, he caught it easily and placed it on the desk.

“Come on. What do you miss?”

“I miss… The stars, maybe.”

He paused uncomfortably, remembering… More than the stars.

“But… This is my place. Here I am of use. It’s difficult to say, but I learnt that the truth is important, once. Here I can… repay some of my debt.”

“You really mean it don’t you?”

“I am an ex war lord, I would say anything to please my Queen,” he grinned revealing his sharp red teeth, but his tone was in jest.

“No,” she sat up suddenly, focusing on his eyes, looking more serious. “I do know. Because for the last year that door has been unguarded, unlocked, and the magical field down. Besides that, you’ve had the tech pass through here to breach them anyway. But you haven’t tried to escape, not once.”

“You would risk my and the other clones escape?”

“They’re tracked, with nowhere to go. They’d be recaptured. I wanted to be sure.”

“Of what?”

“Of you. But you knew didn’t you? You don’t look surprised.”

“I have demonstrated signalling and tracking from these rooms several times a month for the past few years. I knew the magical field was down the day I actually got readings.”

She smiled. 

“And you stayed.”

“I stayed.”

“But why?”

“Here is the place I can be better. I have done a lot of bad in my life. I have had more than most to overcome. Here I can learn to be… Be worthy.”

“You answered quickly.”

“I have had a lot of time to think.”

She shrugged.

“That’s enough for me. Hordak, you’re free to go. Your life is your own.”

“You are drunk.”

“I’m not. But if you don’t believe me,” she shrugged again, “I’ll be back tomorrow and tell you the same.” 

She rose to leave, and paused at the door. “But be warned, Hordak, if history repeats itself you have me to answer to.”

“Always. I promise.”

She sent him a half flicker of a smile as she left. 

Hordak sat still in his chair for a few moments before rising and carefully straightening the sheets of his bunk, pushing each crinkle to the side and out, replacing the pillow in its place by the headboard. He took in a deep breath and controlled the tremble in his hands. His eyes travelled slowly upwards to focus on an old note still tacked to the wall, faded by the years, dwarfed by the charts around it, the very first he had received here. He blinked away the prickling sensation in the corners of his eyes.


	13. Chapter 13

“You’re still here.”

Queen Glimmer was standing over him in the corridor, arms folded as he raised his head from the bowels of the engine he had been repairing, careful not to bash his head on any of the sharp edges. He slowly straightened his back, twisting gently to relieve the soreness. 

“I am.”

“Why?”

“You said you would be back for a confirmation.”

She let out a short laugh, shaking her head.

“And here I am. You’re free to go. I meant what I said yesterday.”

His blood seemed to freeze in his veins, his mouth felt dry. He couldn’t look at her. The idea hovered there, tantalizingly, but if he was not careful then his mind would run away from him. He pushed it away.

“Would you not like a meeting, a re-trial, to speak with the other Princesses at least? Perhaps that would be a wise course of action before conferring with myself.”

“You sound like you don’t want to go.”

He waited. She sighed.

“I already did. We all met to discuss it. I persuaded those that were unsure,” she paused, shrugging. “There’s terms, of course. Some kingdoms you are unwelcome, you are not allowed to rule, form armies, build weaponry for your own gain, you’ll be monitored to an extent. I’ll send you over a full run down at some point… But it was unanimous, in the end. Your behaviour, your work, your words. You convinced us. You’re free.”

His chest tightened. He could feel his ears flicking.

“That was not my intention. I want to repay. To change.”

“And that’s why you’re free,” said Glimmer gently, crouching near him.

He paused, staring hard at the engine before finally letting his eyes meet hers.

“But why?”

“You showed us, Hordak. You showed us how much you had changed.”

She held his gaze, a smile growing over her mouth. Something was stirring in his chest, as if Glimmer was attempting to turn the crank on an ancient machine, it’s gears too rusted to move. He reached out a hand in his mind to halt her.

“But what do I do?” A small note of desperation leaked into his voice. 

“Whatever you want, within reason.”

He was silent, studying her for any hint of jest or malice, but there was none. She lightly nudged his arm.

“Come on Hordak, you haven’t been inside that long. Six years is a lot but you’re not institutionalised.”

He looked down again, picking his words carefully.

“My entire life, my existence, before this, was serving Horde Prime. These six years are not the problem.”

She paused, looking troubled.

“Well… Now you have the rest of your life to work it out.”

He tried to let it sink in. The gears clunked a little, after so long forced into inaction, a little spray of rust crumbled from them. 

“Can I… stay?”

“In prison?!” She laughed in surprise. “No. You can’t stay in prison.”

“No, not prison… But… Here, on Etheria. As your subject, if you will have me. I can still be of use. I know the war still goes on. I can still work, as I have been, for you. I can teach, build, whatever you need.”

He turned his face hopefully to hers, heart suddenly pounding. It had been an age since that had happened. Pistons eased their way into life, forcing the gears to revolve. Glimmer thought for a long time.

“Okay. I’d kind of appreciate that. Our space programme needs expanding. We want to set up labs, transport, trade ships.”

“Yes,” he said, his voice sounding eager to his ears, it surprised him, “and war ships and weaponry. I have more ideas, I can train the techs and the pilots-”

She cut him off quickly, a small smile growing on her lips. Her eyes glistened.

“No… It’s over, Hordak… That’s why I came to you last night, it was playing on my mind. The war is over… We won… They’re coming back. Bow’s coming back! Now we’ve got entirety of space, so many new worlds to visit, and trade with, so many connections... This is just the beginning.”

The words blurred in his ears. This victory must have been a long time coming.

“You kept that quiet.”

She shrugged.

“Well, until yesterday you were still technically our prisoner so…”

Another question, long buried in the rust, forced its way up and out through his lips before he could stop it. He dreaded and longed for the answer.

“And the others? Are they coming back too? Are they… safe?” The last word cracked.

She smiled.

“They’re on their way back too. All of them. Within a couple of weeks.” 

Hordak felt faint. He let out a half laugh, half wail. The gears roared sending rust cascading to the floor.

“I know, we’ve got loads to prepare. And a welcome home party, of course.”

Hordak stepped out of his prison, the cries of his once Brothers cut off suddenly by the sound of the metal door clanging behind _him_.

The world loomed around him, bright and fresh.

He took a tentative step forward, legs weak and shaky like a newborn. He looked about him at the assorted painted buildings. He could hear work going on in them. The crash of metal on metal, the roar of a furnace. People at work, living their lives.

The grass beneath his feet was springy after so long on stone. He hadn’t realised how much the very _give_ in a floor would surprise him. He tested it a couple of times with his toes, as if expecting it to fall away beneath him.

He breathed in deeply as the wind passed over him, ruffling his hair. The sensation was startling. How had he not even considered wind in all this time… Weather? The air had been so still inside...

It brushed his face as if wiping it gently.

But it was the sky that drew him the most as he craned his neck to view it. It extended, limitless, above him, wrapping each and every star and planet in its embrace, holding them all gently in its grasp. With no more grey ceiling above him, cutting him off from it, he could almost sense the universe above him. It sang to him, calling him to join it. 

He felt a laugh building in him and he released it, giddy, watching the dancing orbs of magic dotting the sky, birds twirling around them.

Home, he was home.

He turned to his Queen beside him and smiled, then lowered himself to his knee.

“As my first free act I would like to swear my eternal vengeance upon you and your planet.”

Glimmer laughed.

“Nice try, get up. As if I’d see the day ‘Lord Hordak’ make a joke.”

She paused, waiting for him, as he stood once more, taking in the day alongside him.

“Its so beautiful, I forget sometimes...” She paused for a moment before laughing. “Did you know my coronation day cake had a topper of us fighting?”

“I did not,” he replied, as his ears lowered. He felt ashamed, despite his rush at being part of the world again. There would always be bad with the good, his creatures… Prime. But it was how he reacted to it that would make the difference. His choices. “But I would like to reiterate that those days are long behind me. You are my Queen now.”

“I know,” she smiled. “Weird, huh?”

They gazed across the grass. Standing united. Old enemies. He an ex-warlord, her an ex-rebellion upstart.

“Indeed.”


End file.
